
Class 

Book _-^- 



/ rrA 



THE 



AMERICAN NEI^l: 



COLLECTION OF THE LIVES 



OF 

THE MOST jREMARKJBLE AND THE MOST 
EMINENT MEN, 

WHO HAVE CONTRIBUTED TO 

THE DISCOVERY, THE SETTLEMENT, AND THE 
INDEPENDENCE OF AMERICA. 



^{x.-^. 



i 



\/- 



Calculated for i'he Use of Schools* 



" Hiftory is Philofophy teaching by Examples.' 




1 -»' '•' 



B ALT I MO RE: 
PUBLISHED BY G. "DOUGLAS, BOOKSELLER- 



M DCCC.V. 



*. >*• 






JBAL'tJMOSEy March 1805, 

CoJ\rSID£EIJ\rG thai the lives of remarkable and 
illustrioits Men^ eminent Jor their enterfirize^ their 
talents^ and their virtues^ are Jit examples for Youthy 
not only to increase their knotvledge qf the history of 
their own Country, but also to excite a commendable 
emulation of ivhatever is just and praisc'ivorthy, We 
ure of opinion f that the following Collection may be 
if use to the rising generation, 

JSli^jh Dunham RAi^ooNSy Sac, The. Prof. 
Jfsociate Hector of St. Paul's Parijhf Baltimore.) 
and State of Maryland^ U.S. 

Joseph G. J» Bend, D. D, Associated Rector 
qfSt.Paul's Parifiji Baltimore Co. Maryland. 

James Ingljs, Minister of the first Presby-* 
terian Congregation in the City cf Baltimcne. 

John Glendt, Minister of the second Presby*^ 
terian Church, Baltimore. 

William Sinclair, Pr. Logic and Rhetoric 

in Baltimore CollegCi and Principal of Baltimore 
Academy. 

Samuel Knox, A,M* 
Samuel Brown, 



PREFACE. 

BIOGRAPHY is that species of history which 
records the lives and characters of remark- 
able persons. When truly given, it is the his- 
tory oi Man as he is, wherein we contemplate, 
for our instruction, the virtues, or the vices of 
those who are described : We trace the proo-ress 
of good men with pleasure, and we behold the 
crimes of bad men with detestation. Bioo-raphy 
is therefore not only the most entertaining, but 
is also the most instructing kind of History- 
No books are so proper to be put into the hands 
ot young persons. 

If Chronology and Geography be the eyes of 
History, Biography must be its grand feature. 
Its vital principle. In ancient story, we read of 
the ambition of Alexander and Caesar— in mo 
dern annals, we are shocked with the crimes of 
Cromwell and Robespierre. Fortunately, the 
history of America has had no occasion to re- 
<;ord the hateful deeds of usurpers and tyrants— 
as yet, her remarkable men are of the first or 
4er ; they are objects of admiration, and worthy 
or imitation. •' 

It is true, that the personages described in the 
loUovving pages are not all natives of this coun- 
try , but their hves are so connected with its dis 
covery, its improvement, and its advances to 
maturity as a nation, that they could not be o- 
mitted in a book which professes to ffive for the 
^ instruction of the youth of Americaf^ biWraph- 
^ ica history of its most eminent cliaracters The 
collection begins with the celebrated Columbus, 
and concludes with the illustrious JVuskmg^o?i-i 

^ With 



II PREFACE. 

With Franklin and Wcishinpton, the people of 
these States need not be afniid to liokl up their 
heads with the proudest kingdoms of Europe, 
iind dispute with them the palm of Philosophy 
and Q-enuine Patriotism. 

To the rising generation, it is expected, that 
this volume may be of much use. Whilst it la3's 
before them the principal outlines of the history 
of their country, it presents for tlieir example 
the actions of some of their most celebrated citi- 
zens — of those who firvst explored and settled 
these desert shores ; who, by their intrepidity and 
talents, have accelerated the progress of civiliz- 
ation and government ; and of tliose who fought 
for the liberties, and, at length, atchicved the 
independence of America. 

In point of order, every citizen of America 
ought, first, to be well acquainted with the his- 
tory of his own countr}' — the interesting, and 
instructing annals of England must necessarily 
succcjed — then m^iy follow those of Greece and 
Home. Erora these volumes may be obtained all 
that is useful in History ; and, let it be observ- 
ed, that, from an impartial 6;tudy of History, 
may be learned almost every useful lesson. 

From this Collection, may the young reader, 
whilst he acquires the first rudiments of histo- 
rical knowledge, learn to shun evil, and to do 
good — may it teach him to practice Virtue, 
and to venerate Religion. 



* * 



^ It was by chance that the Editor gave the prefent title 
to this Collection — He had hefitated betwixt Nepos and Plu- 
tarch, when hapjiejijng to hold in his hand a British Nepos, ^ 
he thought it a good precedent— —In point of time, C. Nepos^ 
{lands foremofti he was an Italian ; he lived in the Imperator- 
fhip of Julius Csefar, and wrote the lives of certain eminent 
Creeks and Romans— Pluravch was of Grecian birth; he flou- 
rifhed in the vcign of Trajan, and rendered himfelf famous by 
his hi'^gi.Rphical liillory of celebrated men — Both are uf-ful 
hpoks f'r ei<-^er Id or youn.^r BAT.TT^to^vF., March tSoj. 






OBSERVATIONS on READING. 



THE art of reading with propriety, is a most 
pleasing and useful attainment, productive 
both of profit and improvement* — to some 
classes of society, it is an important, an indis- 
pensible qualification, particularly professional 
men, those who wish to attain eminence in the 
Senate, in the Pulpit, or at the Bar. It is es- 
sential to a complete reader, that he minutely 
perceive the ideas, and enter into the feelings 
of the Author whose sentiments he professes to 
repeat ; for how is it possible to represent clear- 
ly to others, what we have but faint or inaccu- 
rate conceptions of ourselves ? ~ If there were 
no other benefits resulting from the art of read- 
ing well, than the necessity it lays us under, of 
precisely ascertaining the meaning of what we 
read, and the habit thence ac(|uired of doing 
this with facility, both when reading silently 
and aloud, they would constitute a sufficient 
compensation for all the labour we can bestow 
upon the subject. But the pleasure derived to 
ourselves and others, from a clear communica- 
tion of ideas and feelings, and the strong and 
durable impressions made thereby on the minds 
of the reader and the audience, are considera- 
tions which give additional importance to the 
study of this very useful art. 

A 

* Note — That thefe Obfervatiohs will apply equally to 
Speaking as well as Beading. 



IV Observations on Heading. 

A just delivery consists in a distinct articula^ 
tion of words, pronounced with proper tones- 
suitably varied to the sense and the emotions of 
the mind ; with due attention to accent, and to 
emphasis in its several gradations ; and to rests, 
or pauses of the voice, in proper places and well 
measured degrees of time;the whole accompanied 
with expressive looks and significant gestures. 
— A few rules are here laid down for the instruc- 
tion of >he learner. 

Articulation.— The first attention of every 

Eerson who reads to others, must be, to make 
imself lieard by all those to whom he reads ;. 
he must endeavour to fill with his voice the space 
occupied by the company. This power of voice 
is the gift of Nature, but it may receive much 
assistance from Art. Accordingly, much de- 
pends on the proper pitch and management of 
tiie voice. Every person has three pitches in^ 
his voice ; tlie high, the rniddle, and the low. 
— The high, is that which he uses in calling a- 
loud to some person at a distance ; the low, 
when he approaches to a whisper ; the middle, 
is that which he emplo3^s in common conversa- 
tion, and which he should generally use in ready- 
ing to others ; for it is a great mistake, to ima- 
gine that one must take the highest pitch of his 
voice in order to be heard in a large company — 
This is confounding two things which are dif- 
ferent, loudness of sound with the proper key 
or note on which we ought to speak. By set- 
ting out on the highest key or pitch, we are like- 
ly to beqome harsh and discordant ; we shall fa- 
tigue ourselves, read with pain, and disgust our 
hearers. Let us therefore give the voice its full 
strength and swell of sound, but take care to 
pitch it on the proper speaking key. It should 

be 



Observatioxs on Readlvg. V 

be our constant rule, never to utter a greater 
quantity of voice than we can alibrd without 
pain to ourselves, and without any extraordi- 
nary effort. As long as we keep within' these 
bounds, the other organs of speech will be atr 
liberty to discharge their several offices with 
ease, and we shall always have our voice under 
command ; but whenever we transgress these 
bounds^ we give up the reins, and. have no lon- 
ger any management of it. 

By the habit of reading, when' young, in a 
loud and vehement manner, the voice becomes- 
fixed in a strained, unnatural key, and is reni- 
dered incapable of that variety which consti- 
tutes the true harmony of utterance, and affords 
ease to the reader, and pleasure to the audience. 
This unnatural pitch of the voice, and disagree- 
able monotony, are most observable in those who 
were taught to read by persons that considered 
loud- expression as tlie chief requisite, who have 
tiiemselves been badly educated, a?nd have a bad' 
ear ; for good reading is like good music,, both 
have their proper notes and cadences. f 

Distinctness-.. — In the next place, to being 
well heard and clearly understood, distinctness 
of articulation- contributes more than mere 
loudness of soimd.. The quantity of sound ne- 
cessary to fill a large space, is smaller than, is 
commonly imagined,. With distinct articula- 
tion, a person, even with a weak voice, will 
make it reach further than the strongest voice 

A 2. ' can 

f This particularly applies -to public Speakers,, or Orators. . 
—It is lurjjrizing how deficient fome of our bell (rqjutedly 
fo) Speakers are in thefe points ; ;they are guilty of faults that- 
woiild induce an audience to hifs an Aelor off the AageJ—- 
Hence it is-faid, in both France andi.lijigland,, that a judici- 
ous Acflor is the bed copy for him who wilhei to be an ac- 
complifhed Orator, •« failing the word to the-aaion, -&c." 



'VI Observations on Reading. 

can reach without it. To this requisite, there- 
fore, every reader ought to pay particular at- 
tention. He must give every sound which he 
litters its due propoition, and make every syl- 
lable, and even every letter in the word which 
he pronounces, be distinctly heard. 

An accurate knowledge of the simple, elemen- 
tary sounds of the language, and a facility in 
expressing them, are so necessary to distinct- 
ness of expression, that if the learner's attain- 
ments are, in this respect, imperfect, it will be 
incumbent on his teacher to carry him back to 
these primary articulations. 

Due Degree of Slowness. — In order to ex*, 
press ourselves distinctly, we must, in general, 
read slowly. Precipitancy in reading, or speak- 
ing, confounds all articulation, and all mean- 
ing ; but it is scarcely necessary to observe, that 
there may be an extreme on the other side. It 
is obvious, that a drawling, lifeless manner of 
reading must render the performance insipid 
and fatio-uino;. But the extreme of reading too. 
fast is much more common, and requires the 
more to be guarded against, because, when it 
has grown up into a habit, few errors are more 
difficult to be corrected. To pronounce with, 
a proper degree of slowness, and with full and 
clear articulation, is necessary to be studied by 
all who wish to become either good readers or 
good speakers. It is a great assistance to the 
voice, by the pauses and rests ^^hich it more 
easily makes, and it enables the^ reader, or 
speaker, to swell and mark his sounds with more 
correctness and harmony. 

Propriety of Pronunciation. — After the 
fundamental attentions to the management of 
the voice, to distinct articulation, and to a pro- 
per- decree of slowness of. speccli, what the 

young. 



Observations on Reading. vii 

young reader must next study, is propriety of 
pronunciation, viz. giving to every word tiiat 
Sound which the best usage of the language re- 
quires, in opposition to vulgar and provincial 
pronunciation. % Instructions concerning this 
article may be better given by a living teacher 
of correct taste — but there is one observation, 
which it is proper here to make. In the English 
language, every word which consists of more 
syllables than one, has one accented syllable ; 
tifie accent rests sometimes on the vowel , some- 
times on the consonant ; the genius of the lan- 
guage requires the voice to mark that syllable 
by a stronger emphasis, and to pass more slight- 
ly over the rest. Now, after we have learned 
the proper seats of these accents, it is an im- 
portant rule, to give every word just the same 
accent in reading as in common discourse. Ma- 
ny persons err in this respect ; when they read 
to others, they pronounce the syllables in a dif- 
ferent manner from what they do at other times ; 
they dwell upon them, and protract them ; they 
multiply accents on the same word, from a mis- 
taken notion, that it gives importance to the 
subject, and adds to the energy of their deliv- 
ery. Whereas this is one of the greatest faults 
that can be committed in pronunciation ; it 
makes what is called a pompous or mouthing 
manner, and gives an artificial, affected air to 
reading, which detracts greatly from its agree- 
ableness and just impression. 

Pauses. — Pauses, or rests in reading or speak- 
ing, are a cessation of the voice during a per- 

cep- 

% Mr. Sheridan paibli fried a Didllonary, pointing out, hj 
fimple marks, the method of pronunciation. A number of 
imitators followed on nearly the fame plan, but none of them 
have arrived at fuch fcientific corre«^nefs as Mr. Walker — To 
bis DiAioiiary the reader would do well to apply for tlie beli 
i^ethod of pronouncing the English lanc;xia£;e,. 



vrii Observations ON RrADiNcJ. 

ceptible, and, in many cases, a measurable spacfe 
of time. Pauses are equally necessary to the 
speaker and to the hearer — To the speaker, that 
he may take breath, without which he cannot 
proceed far in delivery ; and that he may, by 
these temporary rests, relieve the organs of 
speech, which otherwise would be soon tired by 
continued action— to tlie hearer, that the ear 
may be relieved from the fatigue which it would 
otherwise endure from a continuity of sounds 
and that the understanding may have sufficient 
time to mark the distinction of sense, and the 
^[ionstr notion of sentences. 

There are two kinds of pauses — P'irst, em- 
phatical pauses ; and, those that mark the dis- 
tinctions of sense. An emphaticaL pause is ge- 
nerally made after sometiiing has been said of 
peculiar moment, and on which we desire to fix 
the hearer's attention — sometimes, 7>t'/i>r6f a thing 
is said, we usher it in with a pause of this na- 
ture. Siich pauses have the same effe.ct as a 
strong emphasis, and are subject to the same 
rules, es-peciaUy to the caution of not repeating 
them too frequently ; for as they excite uncom-*- 
inon attention, >and of course raise expectation ^ 
if the importance of the matter be not fully an-, 
swerable to such expeetxitiou, they occasion dis^ 
uppoiiitnient and disgust. 

But the most fre(|ucnt and the principal use 
of pauses ds, to mark the divisions of/ the sense ^ 
and, at the same time, to allow the reader to 
draw hi^ breath; and the proper and delicate 
adjustment of such pauses,, is one of. the nicest 
iirticles of delivery. In all reading, the manage- 
ment of the breath requires a- deal of care, soas- 
not to oblige us to divide words from one ano^ 
ther, which have so intimate a connexion, that 

^hey 



f 



OlBSERVATIONS ON READING, IX 

tliey ought to be pronounced with the same 
breath, and without the least separation. Many 
a sentence is miserably mangled, and the force 
of the emphasis totally lost, by pauses in the 
wrong place. To avoid this, every one, while 
he is reading, should be very careful to provide 
a full supply of breath for what he has to utter. 
— By this management, one may always have a 
sufficient stock of breath for carrying on the 
longest sentence without improper interruption. 
But it is a mistake to imagine, that the* breath 
must be drawn only at the end of a point, or 
stop. Pauses in reading must generally be for- 
med upon the manner in which we utter our- 
selves in an ordinary, sensible conversation, and 
not upon a stiff, artificial manner ; besides the 
regular points, there are other delicate pauses- 
which ought to be observed in reading. A me- 
chanical attention to the points used in pririting^ 
has perhaps been one cause of monotony, by 
leading the reader to a similar tone at every, 
stop, and a uniform cadence at every period — 
On this head, the following direction may be of 
use : ^* Tho' in reading great attention should 
be paid to the stops, yet a greater should be 
given to the sense, and their correspondent times 
occasionally lengthened beyond what is usual 
in common speech." 

Emphasis. — By emphasis is meant a stronger 
and fuller sound of voice, by which we distin- 
guish some word or words, and to show how they 
affect the rest of the sentence. Sometimes the 
emphatic words must be distinguished by a par- 
ticular tone of voice,, as well as by a particular 
stress. On the right management of Emphasis^ 
depends the life of Pronunciation. If no empha- 
sis be placed on any words, not only is discourse 

ren- 



CONTENTS. 

Page 

Chriflopher Columbus i 

Amerigo Vefpucci --------- 24 

John and Sebaftian Cabot 26 

James Carder - --.- 31 

Ferdinando de Soto 43 

Walter Raleigh 47 

John Smith .------.--. 56 

John Robinfon 88 

George Calvert ^6 

William Penn ---. 103 

Benjamin Franklin 131 

General Lee -.---- 227 

General Putnam 250 

David Rittenhoufe 290 

General Walhington - • 306 



RS^JMi 



THE 

AMERICAN NEPOS. 



€ O L U M BUS. 

ABOUT the middle of the 15th century, when 
the Portuguese under the conduct of Prince 
Henry, and afterward of King John II. were pushing 
their discoveries along the western shore of Africa, to 
find a passage by the south to India; a genius arose, 
whose memory has been preserved with veneration in 
the pages of history, as the instrument of enUu-ging 
the region of Science and Commerce, beyond any of 
|iis predecessors. Christopher Columbus, a na- 
itive of the Republic of Genoa, was born in the year 
^.447, and a.t the age of 14, entered on a seafaring hfe, 
iiS the proper sphere, in which his vigorous mind was 
destined to perform exploits which should astonish 
lankind. He was educated in the sciences of Geome- 
i y and Astronomy, which form the basis of Naviga- 
tion ; and he was well versed in Cosmography, Histo- 
ry and Philosophy. His active and enterprishig ge- 
nius, though it enabled him to comprehend the old 
systems, yet would not sufl'er him to rest in their de- 
cisions, however sanctified by time or by venerable 
names.; but determined to examine them by actual 
experiment, he first visited the seas within the polar 
circle, and afterward those parts of Africa, which the 
Portuguese had discovered, as far as the coast of Gui- 
nea ; and by the time that he had attained the age of 
37, he had from his own experience received the full- 
est conviction, that the opinion of the ancients res- 
pecting the torrid and frigid zones was void of any just 
iounaaciua. Ij Wlieu 



^ COLUMBUS. 

When an old system is found erroneous in one 
point, it is natural to suspect it of farther imperfec- 
tions; and when one difficulty is overcome, others ap- 
pear less formidable. Such was the case with Co- 
lumbus ; and his , views were accelerated by an inci- 
dent, which threatened to put an end to his life. Dur- 
ing one of his voyages, the ship in which he sailed 
took fire, in an engagement with a Venetian galley, 
and the crew were obliged to leap into the sea to avoid 
perishing in the flames. In this extremity, Colum- 
bus, by the help of a floating oar, swam upwards of 
two leagues to the coast of Portugal near Lisbon, and 
met with a welcome reception from many of his coun- 
trymen who were settled there. 

At Lisbon, he married the daughter of Perestrello, 
tin old seaman who had been concerned in the disco- 
very of Porto Santo and Madeira ; from whose jour- 
nals and charts he received the highest entertainment- 
Pursuing his inquiries in Geography, and observing 
what slow progress the Portuguese made in their at- 
tempts to find a way round Africa to India, " he be- 
^an to reflect, that as the Portuguese travelled so far 
southward, it were no less proper to sail westward," 
and that it was reasonable to expect to find the desired 
land in that direction. 

The causes which led him to entertain this idea, 
are distinguished by his son, the writer of his life, in- 
to these three, " natural reason, the authority of wri- 
ters, and the testimony of sailors." 

By the help of ** reason," he argued in this man- 
ner: That the earth and sea composed one globe or 
sphere. This was known by observing the shadow of 
the earth in lunar eclipses. Hence he concluded that 
it might be travelled over from east to west, or from 
■west to east. It had been explored to the east by some 
European travellers as far as Cipango, or Japan ; and 
as ftir westward as the Azores or Western Islands. 
The remaining space, though now known to be more 
than half, he supposed to be but one third part of the 
circumfci'enQe of the globe. If tins space were an 

open 



COLUMBUS. 3 

Open sea, he imagined it might be easily sailed over ; 
and if there were any hmd extending eastwardly be- 
yond the known limits of Asia, he supposed tlat it 
must be nearer to Spain by the west, than by the east. 
For. it was then a received opinion that tJie continent 
and islands of India extended over one third part of 
the circumference of the globe ; that another third 
part was comprehended between India and the west- 
ern shore of Spain ; therefore it was concluded, that 
the eastern part of India must be as near to Spain a* 
the western part. Thisopiniou though now known to 
be erroneous, yet being then admitted as true, made 
it appear to Columbus very easy and practicable to 
discover India hi the west. He hope d also that be- 
tv/een Spain and India in thar direction, thtre might 
be found some islands; by the help of which, as rest- 
ing places in his voyage, he might the better pursue 
his main design. The probability of the existence of 
land in that ocean, he argued, partly from the opi- 
nion of philosophers, that there were more land than 
sea on the surface of the globe ; and partly irom the' 
necessity of a counterpoise in the west, for the im- 
mense quantity of land which wus known to be in the 
east. 

Another source, from which he drev/ his conslusion 
%vas, "the authority of learned men," who had alLrmed 
the possibility of sailing from the western coast of 
Spain, lo the eastern bounds of India, Some of the 
ancient Gecgiaphers had admitted this for truth, and 
one of them had affirmed that forty days were sufllci- 
ent to perform this navigation. These authorititsiell 
in with the theory which Columbus had formed ; and 
having, as early as 1474, communicated his ideas in 
writing, to Paul a learned physician of Florence, he 
received from him letters of liiat date, conDrmIng 
his opinion and encouraging his design ; accompanied 
with a chart, in which Paul had laid down the city of 
Quisay (supposed to be the capital of China) but little 
more than 2000 leagues westward from Lisbon, which 
in fact is but half Xh^i distance, Thus^ by arguing 

from 



4 COLUMBUS. 

from true principles, and by indulging conjectures 
partly well founded and partly erroneous, Columbus 
.%vas led to the execution of a plan, bold ni its concep- 
tion, but, to his view, easily practicable ; for great 
Kunds overlook intermediate obstacles, which men of 
smaller views magnify into insviperable difficulties. 

The third ground on which he fooned his idea was 
*< the testimony of mariners;" a class of men who at 
that time, and in that imperfect state of science, were 
too prone to mix fable with fact, and were often mis- 
led by appearances, which they could not solve. In 
the sea between Madeira and the Western Islands, 
pieces of carved wood and large joints of cane had 
been discovered, which were supposed to be brought 
by westerly winds. liranches of pine trees, a covered 
canoe, and two human bodies of a complexion different 
from the Europeans and Africans had been found on 
the shores of these islands. Some navigators had af- 
iirmed, that they had seen islands not more than 100 
leagues westward from the Azores. There was a tra- 
dition, that when Spain was conquered by the Moors 
in the 8th century, seven Bishops, who were exiled 
from their country, had built seven cities and church- 
es, on an island called Antilla, which was supposed 
to be not more tkan 200 leagues west of the Canaries ; 
and it was said that a Portuguese ship had once dis* 
covered this island, but could never find it again. 
These stories, partly true and partly fabulous, had 
their effect on the mUid of Columbus^ He believed 
that islands were to be found, westward of the Azores 
•find Canaries ; tliough according to 'lis theory, they 
•were at a greater distance than any of his cotempora- 
ries had imagined. His candour led him to adopt an 
opinion from Pliny respecting floating islands, by the 
help of which he accounted for the appearances relat- 
ed to him, by his marine brethren. It is not improba- 
ble that the large islands of floating ice, driven from 
the Polar Seas to the southward; or the Fog Banks, 
■which form many singular appearances resembling 
land and trees, might h?Lve been the true foundati9u 
of this_ opinion and of these reports. 



COLUMBUS. 5 

It is not pretended that Columbus was the only per- 
son of his age who had acquired these ideas of the 
form, dimensions and balancing of the globe; but he 
was one of the few who had begun to tliink for them-' 
selves, and he had a genius of that kind, which 
makes use of speculation and reasoning only as excite- 
ments to action. He was not a closet projector, but 
an enterprising adventurer ; and having established 
his theory on principles, he was determined to exert 
himself to the utmost, to demonstrate its truth by ex- 
periment. But deeming the enterprise too great to 
be undertaken by any but a sovereign state, he first 
applied (as it is said) to the Republic of Genoa, by 
whom his project was treated as visionary. He then 
proposed his plan to John H. King of Portugal, who, 
though a Prince of good understanding and of an en- 
terprising disposition, yet was so deeply engaged in 
prosecuting discoveries on the African coast, with a 
view to iind a way to India round that continen':, and 
had been at so vast an expence without any consider- 
able success, that he had no inclination to accept the 
terms which Columbus proposed. Influenced how- 
ever by the advice of Calzadilia a favourite courtier, he 
privately gave orders to a ship bound to the islands of 
Cape de Verd, to attempt a discovery in the west ; 
but through ignorance and want of enterprise, the na- 
vigators, after wandering tor som.etimehn the ocean, 
and making no discovery, reached their destined port, 
and turned the project of Columbus into ridicule. 

Disgusted with this base artifice, he quitted Portu- 
gal, and went to Ferdinand, King of Spain, having 
previously sent his brother to England to solicit the 
patronage of Henry VII. But being taken by pirates, 
and detained several years in captivity, Bartholomew 
had it not in his power to reveal his project to Henry, 
till Christopher Columbus had succeeded in Spain. Be- .• 
fore this could be accomplished he had various obsta- 
cles to surmount; and it was not till after seven years 
cf painful solicitation that he obtained his request. 

The 



6 COLUMBUS. 

The objections made to the proposal of Columbus* 
by the most learned men m Spain, to whom the consj- 
deiation of it was referred, will give us some idea of 
the state of geo,2;raphical science at that time. One 
objection was, How should he know more than all the 
wise men and skilful sailors who had existed since tlie 
-creation ? Another was the authority of Seneca, who 
had doubted whether it were possible to navigate the 
ocefin at any great distance from the shore ; but ad- 
niiuing that it were navigable, they imagined, lliat 
three years would be required to perlorm the voyage 
which Columbus proposed. A third was, that if a 
ship should sail westward on a round globe, she would 
necessarily go down, on the opposite side, and then it 
would be impossible to return, because it would be like 
climbing up a h'.ll, which np ship could do with the 
£.Lron|j^est wind. A fourth objection was grounded on 
a book of St. Augustine, in which he had expressed 
his doubt of the existence of antipodes and the possi- 
bilitv of going from one hemisphere to the other. As 
the writings of this Holy Father had received the sanc- 
tion of theChurch, to contradict him was deemed he- 
resy ! 

For such reasons, and by such reasoners, the propo- 
sal of Columbus was at first rejected ; but by the in- 
fluence of John Perez a Spanish Priest, and Lewis 
Santangel an officer of the King's houshold, Queen Isr 
abella was persuaded to listen to his solicitation, and 
after he had been twice repulsed, to recal him to 
Court ; when she oi^Tered to pawn her jewels to defray 
the expence of the equipment, amounting to no more 
than 2500 crowns; which sum was advanced by San- 
tangel, and the Queen's jewels were saved. Thus, to 
the generous decision of a female mind we ov/e the dis- 
covery of America. 

The conditions stipulated between Ferdinand and 
Isabella on the one part, and Columbus on the other 
part, were these : That he, his heirs and successors, 
should hold the oflice of Admiral in all those Islands 
?nd Continents which he should discover ; that he 

should 



COLUMBUS. 7 

should be Viceroy and Governor of the same, "\^ith 
power of nominating three associates, of v/hom their 
Majesties should appoint one. That he should have 
one tenth part of the neat proceeds of all the gold and 
silver, precious stones, spice and other merchandise 
which should be found ; that he, or a deputy of hib 
own appointing, should decide all controversies res- 
pecting the trade ; that he should be at one eighth 
part of the expence of equipping the first fleet, and 
should receive one eighth part of the profits. 

The necessary preparations being made, and a 
year's provision laid in, on the 3d of August, 1492, 
Columbus sailed from Palos, a port of Spain, on the 
Mediterranean, with three vessels, one of which was 
called a carrack, and the other two caravals ;* leaving 
on board the whole ninety men. Having passed thro' 
the straits of Gibraltar, he arrived at the Canaries, on 
the 1 2th of the same month ; where he was detained 
in reiitting one of the caravals, and taking in wood 
and water, till the 6th of September, when he sailed 
westward on his voyage of discovery. 

This voyage, which now is considered as an easy 
and pleasant run, between the latitudes of 20 and 30 
degrees, with a trade wind, was then the boldest at- 
tempt which had ever been made, and filled the minds 
of the best seamen v/ith apprehension. They were 
going directly from home, and from all hope of relief, 
if any accident should befal them. No friendly port 
nor human being was known to be in that direction. 
Every bird which flew in the air, every fish which ap- 
peared in the sea, and every weed which floated on its 
surface, was regarded with the most minute attention, 
as if the fate of the voyage depended on it. A phenome- 
non which had never before been observed struck theni 
with terror. The magnetic needle appeared to vary 
from the pole: They began to apprehend that their 
compass would prove an unfaithful guide ; and the 
trade wind, which wafted them along with its friendly 
"wings, they feared would obstruct their return. 

To 
♦ A carrack had two decks, a caravel only one. 



8 COLUMBUS. 

To be twenty days at sea, without sight of lane?, 
"Was what the boldest mariner had never before at- 
tempted. At the exph'ation of that time the impa- 
tient sailors began to talk of throwing their command- 
er into the ocean, and returning home. Their mur- 
murs reached his ears ; but his aclive mind was never 
ata los^ for expedients, ev^n in the greatest cxtreraity. 
By soothing, flattery, and artifice, by inventing rea- 
sons for every uncommon appearance, by promising 
. rewards to the obedient, and a gratuity to him who 
should first discover land, in addition to what the 
King had ordered ; and by deceiving them in the 
ship's reckoning, he kept them on tlieir course for 16 
clays longer. In the night of the 11th of October, he 
liimself saw a light, which seemed to be on shore, 
and in the morning of the 12th, they had the joyful 
sight of land, which proved to be the island of Guan- 
ahana, one of the cluster called Bahamas, in the 25th 
degree of north latitude. 

Thus in the space of 36 days, and in the 45th year 
of his age, Columbus completed a voyage which he 
bad spent 20 years in projecting and executing ; a 
^voyage which opened to the Europeans a new world ; 
which gave anew turn to their thoughts, to their spirit 
of enterj^rise and of commerce ; v/bich enlarged the 
empire of Spain, and stamped with immortality the 
name of Columbus, 

After spending several months in sailing from 
one island to another in that vast archipelago, which, 
from the mistakes of the age received the name of 
the IVest-Indiefi^ Columbus returned to Spain with 
the two smaller vessels, (the larger havhig been wreck- 
ed on the island of Hisnaniola) leaving behind him a 
colony of 39 men, furnished with a year's provision, 
and lodged in a fort which had been built of the tim- 
ber savrd from the wreck. During his passage he met 
with a violent tempest whicl^ threatened him with des- 
truction. In this extremity, he gave an admh'able. 
proof of his calmness and foresight. He wrote on a 
parchment an account of his discoyeries, wrapped it 



lU 



COLUMBUS. 9 

in a piece of oiled cloth, and inclosed it in a cake of 
wax, ^vhich he put into a tight cask and threw into the 
sea.* Another parchment secured in the same man- 
ner, he placed on the stern, that if the ship should 
sink, the cask might float, and possibly one or the o- 
ther might be driven on shore, or taken up by some fu- 
ture navigator. But this precaution proved fruitless. 
He arrived safe in Spain, in March, 1493, and was 
leceived with the honours due to his merit. 

The account which Columbus gave of his new dis- 
coveries, the specimens of gold and other valuable 
productions, and the sight of the natives which he 
carried from the West-Indies to Spain, were so pleas- 
ing that the Court determined on another expedition. 
But first it was necessary to obtain the sanction of the 
Pope, who readily granted it ; and by an imaginary 
line, drawn from pole to pole, at the distance of 100 
leagues westward of the Azores, he divided between 
the crowns of Spain and Portugal, all the new coun- 
tries already discovered or to be discovered ; giving 
•the western part to the former, and the eastern to the 
latter I — No provision however was made, in case that 
they should meet, and their claims should interfere on 
the opposite side of the globe. The bull, containing 
this famous (but imperfect) line of demarkaticn, was 
signed by Alexander VI. on the^ second day of May 
1493 ; and on the 28th of the same month, the King 
and Queen of Spain, by a written instrument, ex- 
plained and confirmed the privileges andpoweis which 
they had before granted to Columbus, making the of- 
fice of Viceroy and Governor of the Indies hereditary 
in his family. On the 25th of September f[;lIowing, 
he sailed from Cadiz, with a fleet of 17 ships, great 
and small, well furnished with all necessaries for the 
voyage; and having on board 1500 people, with hor- 
ses, cattle, and implements to establish plantations. 

B 2 On 

* An improvement has lately been made upon this icl^a— « 
it is limply to inclcfe a piece of writlup^ in a lealed bottle, 
•*vhichwill convey information of the fortunate cr unfortunate 
Te.flcl hui.creds ofleaguer, fcccrui-.-!^ to the winds oi- tides. 



lo COLUMBUS. 

On Sunday the 3d of November, he discovered an 
island lo which, in honour of the day, he gave the 
name of Dominica. Afterward he discovered in suc- 
cession other islands, which he called Marigalante, 
Gaudaloupe, Montserrat, Redonda, Antigua, St. Mar- 
tin's, St. Ursula, and St. John. On the 12th No- 
vember he came to Navidad, on the north side of 
Hispaniola, where he had built his fort, and left his 
colony ; but he had the mortification to find, that the 
people were all dead, and that the fort had been des- 
troyed. 

The account given by the natives, of the loss of 
the coloriy, was, that they fell into discord among 
themselves, on the usual subjects of controversy, v/o- 
anen and gold j that having provoked a chief, M'hos^ 
name was Canaubo, he came against them with a su- 
perior force, and destroyed them; that some of the 
natives in attempting to defend them, had been killed 
and others were I hen ill of their wounds; which on 
inspection, appeared to have been made with Indian 
weapons. 

Columbus prudently forbore to make any critical in- 
quiry into the matter; but hasted to establish another 
colony, in a more eligible situation, to the eastward ; 
which he called Isabella, after his royal patroness. He 
had many difi^culties to contend with, besides those 
which unavoidably attend undertakings of such novel- 
ty and magnitude. Nature indeed was bountiful : the 
soil and climate produced vegetation, with a rapidity 
to which the Spaniards had not been accustomed.— 
"From v/heatsown at the end of January, full ears were 
gathered at the end of March. Tiie stones of fruit, 
the slips of vine, and the joints of sugar cane sprout- 
ed in seven days, and many other seeds in half the 
lime. This was an encouraging prospect ; but 
the slow operations of agriculture did not meet the 
-views of sanguine adventurers. The numerous follow- 
ers of Columbus, soine of whom were of the best fa- 
milies in Spain, had conceived hopes of suddenly en- 
rkhing thcmselyesj by the precious metals of those 

new 



COLUMBUS. IX 

new regions ; and were not disposed, to listen to his 
recommendations of patience and industry, in cultivat- 
ing the earth. The natives were displeased wilh the 
licentiousness of their new neighbours, who endeavour- 
ed to keep them in awe by a display of force. The 
explosion of fire arms, and the sight of men mounted 
on horses, were at first obiects of terror; but use had 
rendered them less formidable. Columbus, overbur- 
dened with care and fatigue, fell sick, and at liis re- 
covery found a mutiny among his men ; which, by a 
due mixture of resolution and lenity, he had the ad- 
dress to quell. He then endeavoured to establish dis- 
cipline among his own people, and to employ the na- 
tives in cutting roads through the woods. AVhilst he 
was present, and able to attend business, things went 
on so prosperously, that he thought he might safely 
proceed on his discoveries. 

In his former voyage he had visited Cuba, but was 
uncertain whether it were an island or a part of some 
continent. He therefore passed over to its eastern ex- 
tremity ; and coasted its southern side, till he found 
himself entangled among a vast number of small i- 
slands, which for their beauty and fertility he called 
the Garden of the Queen ; but the dangerous rocks 
and shoals, which surrounded them, obliged him to 
stretch farther to the southv/ard ; by vi'hich means he 
discovered Jamaica, where he found refreshments for 
his men, who were almost dead with famine. The 
great distress of this voyage, threw him into a lethar- 
gic disorder, from which he had just recovered, when 
he returned to his colony, and found it all in confusion, 
from the same causes which had proved destructive to 
the first. 

In his absence the licentiousness of the Spaniards 
had provoked several of the chiefs ; four of whom had 
united to destroy them, and had actually commenced 
hostilities, in which 20 Spaniards were killed. Co- 
lumbus collected his people, put them into the best 
order, and, by a judicious combination of force and 
stratagem, gained a decisive victory, to which the 
horses and dogs did not a little contribute. 



12 COLUMBUS. 

At his return to Hispaniola, he had the pleasure oF 
meeting his brother Bartholemew, whom he had not 
seen for several years, and whom he supposed to have 
been dead* Bartholernew was a man of equal know- 
ledge, patience, bravery, and prudence with himself. 
His patience had endured a severe trial in their long- 
separation. He had many obstacles to surmount, be- 
fore he could get to England and obtain access to the 
King. He was at Paris when he heard of the success 
of his brother's first enterprise ; who had gone on the 
second, before Bartholomew could get to Spain. On 
his arrival there, and being introduced to the Court, 
he was appointed to the command of three ships, which 
were destined to convey supplies to the colony ; and 
he arrived whilst Christopher was absent on his voy- 
ag-e to Cuba and Jamaica. Columbus appointed his 
brothel* to command at Isabella, whilst he went into 
the interior part of the island, to perfect his conquest, 
and reduce the natives to subjection and tribute. 

The Indians were so unused to collect gold dust, in 
such quantities as their conquerers demanded it, that 
they ottered to plant the immense plains of Hispani- 
ola, and pay an equivalent in corn. Columbus was 
strr.ck with the magnanimity of the proposal ; and m 
consequence, moderated the tribute. But this did not 
satisfy tl.c avarice of his fellov/ adventurers, who 
found means to complain of him to the King's minis- 
terfe, for his negligence in acquiring the only commo- 
dity, which they thought deserved thcn?.me of riches. 
The Indians then desisted from planting their usual 
quantity of corn, and attempted to subsist chit By ou 
animal food. This experiment proved injurious to 
themselves as well as to their conquerers; and it was 
computed, that within four years, from the first dis- 
covei'V of the island, one third part of its inhabitants 
perished. 

The complaints against Columbus so wrought on 
the jealous mind of King Ferdinand, tliat John Agi'a- 
do, who was sent, in 1495, tothe colony, had orders 
to act us a spy on his conduct. This man behaved 

Willi 



COLUMBUS. 13 

"With so Httle discretion, as to seek inatter of accusa- 
tion and give out threats against the Admiral. At 
the same time, the ships which he commanded, being 
destroyed by a hurricance, he had no means left to 
return ; till Columbus, knowing that he had enemies 
at home and nothing to support him but his own me- 
rit, resolved to goto Span, with two caravals; him- 
self in one, and Aguado in the other. Having appoint- 
ed proper persons to command the several forts, his 
brother Bartholomew to superintend the whole, and 
his brother James to be next in authority ; he set sail 
on the 10th of March 1496, and after a perilous and 
tedious voyage, in the tropical latitudes, arrived at Ca- 
diz on the 1 1th of June. 

His presence at Court, with the gold and other va- 
luable articles which he carried home, removed in 
some measure, the prejudices which had been 
excited against him. But his enemies tho' silent, 
were not idle ; and in a Court, where phlegm and 
languor proved a clog to the spirit of enterprise, they 
found it not diificult to obstruct his views ; which, not- 
withstanding ail discouragements, were still pointed to 
the discovery of a way to India by the west. 

He now demanded eight ships, to carry supplies to 
his colony, and six to go on discovery. These de- 
mands were complied with, and he began his third voy- 
age on the 30th of May 1498. He kept a course so 
far to the southward, that not only his men, but his 
provisions and water suffered greatly from excessive 
heat. The hrstland he made after leaving the Isles 
of Cape de Verd, was a large island which he named 
Trinidad, from its appearance in the form of three 
mountains. He then passed through a narrow strait 
and whirlpool into the gulf of Pai'ia ; where, observ- 
ing the tide to be rapid, and the water brackish, he 
conjectured, that the land, on the western and south- 
ern sides of the gulf, was ]>art of a continent ; and 
-that the fresh water ^^roceeded from seme great ri^.^- 
•crs. 

The 



,4 COLUMBUS. 

The people on the coast of Paria were whiter than 
those of the islands. They had about their necks 
plates of gold and string^s of pearl ; which they readi- 
ly exchanged for pieces of' tin and brass, and little 
bells; and when they were questioned whence they 
obtained the gold and pt;arls, they pointed to the west. 

The Admiral's provision not allowing him to stay 
long in this place, he passed again through that dan- 
gerous strait, to which he gave the name of the Dra- 
gon's Mouth; having satisiied himself, that the land 
on his left was a continent, he steered to the N. W« 
discovering Margaritta and several other islands in his 
course ; and on the 30th of August, arrived at the 
harbour of St. Domingo in Hispaniola ; to which 
place his brother had removed the colony in his ab- 
sence, in consequence of a plan preconcerted be- 
tween them. 

Wearied with incessant care and watching, in this 
dangerous voyage, he hoped now to enjoy repose, in- 
stead of whicli he found his colony nvuch reduced by 
deaths ; many of the survivors sick, with a disease, 
the peculiar consequence of their debauchery ; and a 
large number of them in actual rebellion. They had 
formed tliemselves into a body ; they had gained over 
3nany of the Indians, under pretence of protecting 
them ; and they had retired to a distant part of the 
island, which proved a resort for the seditious and dis* 
contented. Their commander was Francis Roldan, 
who had been Chief Justice of the colony ; and their 
number was so considerable, that Columbus could not 
command a force sufficient to subdue them. He there- 
fore entered into a negociation, by ofl'ering a pardon 
to those who would submit, and liberty of returning to 
Spain to those who desired it. These offers however 
impolitic, proved successful. Roldan himself accept- 
ed them, and persuaded others to do the same ; then, 
being restored to his office, he tried and condemned 
the refractory, some of whom were put to death. 

An account of this mutiny was sent home to Spain 
by Columbus and another by Roldan, Each had their 

ad" 



COLUMBUS. 'sr 



Ol 



advocates at Court, and the cause was heard by the 
King and Queen. Roldan and his men were accused 
of adultery, perjury, robbery, murder, and disturb- 
ing the peace of the whole island ; whilst Columbus 
was charged with cruelty to individuals, aiming at in- 
dependance, and engrossing the nibute. It was in- 
sinuated, that not being a native Of Spain, he had no 
proper respect for the noble families who had become 
adventurers, and that the debts due to them could 
liot be recovered. It was suggested, that if some re- 
medy were not speedily applied, there was danger 
that he would revolt, and join with some other Prince; 
and that to compass this design, he had concealed 
tlie real wealth of the colony, and prevented the con- 
version of the Indians to the Catholic faith. 

These insinuations prevailed on the jealousy of Fer- 
dinand, and even staggered the constancy of Isabella. 
They resolved to appoint a judge, who should exa- 
mine facts on the spot, and if he should find the Ad- 
miral guilty, to supersede him. For this purpose they 
sent Francis Bovadilla, a man of noble rank, but 
whose poverty alone recommended him to the office. 
Furnished with these powers, he arrived at St. Do- 
mingo, when Columbus was absent ; took lodgings in 
Ids house; invited accusers to appear against him; 
seised on his effects, and finally sent him and both his 
brothers to Spain in three different ships, and ali load- 
ed with irons 1 

The master of the ship in which the Admiral sail- 
ed had so mucii respect for him, that when he had 
got to sea, he offered to take off his fetters ; but Co- 
lumbus nobly declared, that he would permit that ho- 
nour to be done him, by none but his sovereign. In 
this humiliating confinement, he was delivered to Fon- 
scca, Bishop of Badajos, who had been the chief in- 
stigator of all these rigorous proceedings, and to whom 
had been committed the affairs of the Indies. 

Not content with robbing Columbus ot his liberty, 
this prejudiced ecclesiastic would have deprived him 
of his well earned reputation of having first discover- 
ed 



i6 COLUMBUS. 

ed the new continent. With the accusations whic^ 
Columbus had sent home agakist Roldan, he had 
transmitted an account of the discovery of the coast 
of Paria, which he justly supposed to be part of a 
continent. Ojeda, an active officer, who had sailed 
■M'ith Columbus in his second voyai>^e, was at court when 
these dispatches arrived, and saw the draught of the 
discovery, with the specimens of gold and pearls, 
which the Admiral had sent home. Being a favour- 
ite of Fonseca, he easily obtained leave to pursue the 
discovery. Some merchants of Seville were prevail- 
ed upon to equip four ships; with which, in 1499, 
Ojeda followed the track of Columbus, and made land 
on the coast of Paria. Amerigo Vespucci^ a Florentine 
merchant, well skilled in geography and navigation, 
accompanied Ojeda in this voyage ; and by publishing 
the first book and chart, describing the new world, ob- 
tained the honour of having it called America. This 
hoM^ever did not happen till after the death of Colum- 
bus. Several othei* adventurers followed the same 
track, and all supposed that the contment which they 
had seen, was part of India. 

As soon as it was known, that Columbus was arriv- 
ed at Cadiz, (Nov. 5, 1500) in the disgraceful situa- 
tion abovementioned, the King and Queen ashamed 
of the orders which they had given, commanded him 
to be released, and iaviled him to Court, where the)r 
apologized for the mi'ibeliaviour of their new Gover- 
nor, and not only promised to recal him, but to re- 
store to the Admiral all his effects. Columbus could 
not forget the ignominy. lie preserved the fetters, 
iiung them up in his apartment, and ordered them to 
be buried in his grave. 

Instead of reinstating him in his government ac- 
cording to the original contract, the King and Queen 
sent Ovando, to supersede Bovadilla ; and only in- 
duced Columbus in pursuing his darling project, the 
discovery of India by the west, which he still hoped 
io accomplish. He sailed again from Cadiz, on the 
4th of fvlay, 1502; with four vessels, canying 140 

T^ncii 



COLUMBUS. 17 

Tnen find boys; of which number were his brother 
Bartholomew and his son Ferdinand, the writer of his 
life. 

In his passage to the Carribee islands, he found his 
largest vessel of 70 tons, unlit for the service ; and there- 
fore went to St Domingo, in hope of exchanging it for 
a better, and to seek shelter from a storm which he 
saw approaching. To his infinite surprise and morti-i 
fication, Ovando would not ^dmit him into the port. 
A fleet of thirty ships was then ready to sail for Spain, 
on board of whicli, Roldan and Bovadilla were prison- 
ers. Columbus informed Ovando of the prognostics 
wliich he had observed, which Ovando disregarded, 
and the fieet sailiid. Columbus then laid three of his 
vessels, under the lee of the shore; and, with great 
difficulty, rode out the tempest. His brother put to 
sea ; and by his great naval skill saved the ship in 
which he sailed. Of the fleet bound to Spain, 18 sliips 
were lost, and in them perished Roldan and Bova- 
dilla. 

The enemies of Columbus gave out that he had 
raised this storm by the art of magic ; and such was 
the ignorance of the age, that the story was Ijelieved i 
What contributed the more to its credit, was, that 
one of tlie worst ships of the fleet, on board of which 
were all the effects which had been saved from 
the ruined fortune of Columbus, was the first which 
arrived in Spain. The amount of these efl'ects was 
<« 4000 pesos of gold, each of the value of eight shil- 
lings." The remark whichFerdinand Columbus makes 
on this event, so destructive to the accusers of his fa- 
ther, is, " I am satistied it was the hand af God who 
'vas pleased to infatuate them, that they might not 
hearken to good advice ; for had they arrived in Spain, 
they had never been punished, as their crimes deserv- 
ed ; but rather favoured and preferred as being the 
Bishop's friends." 

After this storm, and another which followed it, 
Columbus collected his little squadron,sailed on disco-, 
very toward the continent, and, steering to the south* 

west 



i8 COLUMBUS. 

west, came to an island called Guanania, 12 leai^eS 
from the coast of Honduras ; where he met with a 
large covered canoe, having- on hoard several pieces of 
cotton clotli of divers colours, which the people said 
they had brous^ht from the westward. The men were 
armed with swords of wood, in which bharp Hints 
were strongly fixed. Their provision was maize and 
X'oots, and they used the berries of cocoa as money. 
When the Admiral inquired for gol.i, they pointed 
to the west, and when lie asked for a strait by which 
he might pass through the land, they pointed to the 
caBt. From the specimens of coloured cloth, he ima* 
gined, that they had come from India; and hoped to 
pass thitiier, by the strait which they described. Pur- 
suing his course to the east and south, he was led to 
the gulf of Darien ; and visited several harbours, 
among v/hich was one whicli he called Porto Btlio ; 
but he found no passage extending through the land. 
He then returned to the westward, and landed on the 
coast of Veragua ; where the beauty and feiiility of 
the country invited him to begin a plantation which 
he calledBelem ; but the natives, a fierce and formida- 
ble race, deprived him of the honour of first establish- 
ing a colony on the continent, by killing some of his 
people and obliging him to retire with the others. 

At sea, he met with tempestuous weather of long 
continuance ; in which his ships were so shattered, 
that with the utmost difficulty he kept them above wa- 
ter, till he ran them ashore on the island of Jamacia. 
By his extraordinary address, he procured from the 
natives two of their largest canoes ; in which two of 
his most faithful friends, Mendez and Fiesco, accom- 
j)anied by some of his sailors tuid a few Indians, em-r 
barked for Hispaniola. After encountering the great- 
est difficulties, in their passage, they carried tidings 
of his misfortune to Ovando, and solicited his aid. 
The merciless wretch detained them eight months 
without an answer; during which time, Columbus 
suffered the severest hardships, from the discontent of 
his company, and want of provisions. By the hospi- 

ta- 



COLUMBUS. 19 

tality of the natives, he at first received such sup- 
plies as they were able to spare ; but the loug conti- 
nuance of these g-uests had dinninished their store, and 
the insolence of the mutineers gave a check to their 
friendship. 

In this extremity, the fertile invention of Columbus 
suggested an expedient which proved successful. He 
knew that a total eclipse of the moon was at hand, 
which v/ould be visible in the evening;. On the pre- 
ceding day he sent for the principal Indians, to speak 
with them, on a matter of the utmost >mpoi'tance. Be- 
ing assembled, he directed his interpreter to tell them, 
that the God of Heaven, whom he worshipped, was 
jtHgry with them, for witholding provision froni him, 
and would punish ihem with famine and pestilence ; as 
a token of which, the moon would, in the evening, 
{(.ppearof an angry and bloody colour. Some of them 
received his speech with terror, and others v.'ith indif- 
ference ; but when the mooii ro^>e, and the eclipse in- 
creased as she advanced from the horizon, they came 
in crowds loaded with provision, and begged the Ad- 
miral to intercede with hisGod, for the removal of his 
anger. Columbus retired to his cabin ; and when the 
eclipse began to go off, he came out and told them, 
that he had prayed to his God, and had received this 
answer ; that if they would be good foi' the future, and 
bring him provision as he should want, God would 
forgive them; and as a token of it, the moon would 
put on her usual brightness. They gave him thanks, 
and promised compliance ; and whilst he remained on 
the island there was no more want of provision. 

At the end of eight months, Ovando sent a small 
vessel to Jamaica, with a cask of wine, two ilitchesof 
bacon, and a letter of compliment and excuse, which 
the officer delivered ; and without waitini>; for an an- 
swer weighed his anchor the same evening and sailed 
back to Hispaniola. The men who adhered to Colum- 
bus and were with him on board the wrecks, wonder- 
ed at the sudden departure of the vessel, by which 
they expected deliverance. Columbus, nevec at a loss 

for 



no COLUMBUS. 

for an evasion, told them that the caraval was too 
small to take the whole company, and he would not go 
without them. This iiction had the desired effect ; 
those who adhered to him resumed their patience ', 
b>it the mutineers became so insolent, that it was ne- 
cessary to subdue them by force. In the contest ten 
of them were killed. Porras, their leader, was made 
prisoner, and the others escaped. Bartholomew Co- 
lumbus and two others of the Admiral's party were 
wounded, of whom one died. 

The fugitives, having lost their leader, thought it 
best to submit : and on the next day sent a petition to 
the Admiral, confessing their fault, and promising fi- 
delity. This promise they coniirmed by an oath, of 
which the imprecation was singular ; " they renounc- 
ed, in case of failure, any absolution from Pi'iest, Bi- 
shop, or Pope, at the time of their death, and all be- 
nent from the sacraments of the Church ; consenting 
to be buried like heathens and infidels in the open 
field." The Admiral received their submission, pro- 
vided that Porras should continue prisoner, and they 
would accept a commander of his appointment, as 
long as they should remain on the island. 

At length a vessel which Mendez had been permit- 
ted to buy, with the Admiral's money, at Hispaniola, 
came to Jamaica, and took them otf. On their arrival 
at St. Domingo (August 13, 1504) Ovando affected 
great joy, and treated the Admiral with a show of 
lespect; but he liberated Porras, and threatened with 
punishment the faithful adherents of Columbus. As 
soon as the vessel was refitted, the Admiral took leave 
of his treacherous host, and, with his brother, son, 
and servants, embarked for Spain. After a long and 
distressing voyage, in which the ship lost her masts, 
he arrived at St. Lucar, in May 1505. 

His patroness Isabella had been dead about a year j 
and with her, had expired all the f:\vour which he ever 
enjoyed in the Court of Ferdinand. Worn out with 
sickness and fatigue, disgusted with the insincerity of 
his Sovereign, and the haughtiness of his courtiers, 

Co« 



COLUMBUSi :Lt 

tllohimbus lingered out a year in fruitless solicitt'ition 
for his violated rights ; till death relieved him from 
all his vexations. He died at Valadolid, on the 20th 
of May, 1506, in the 59th year of his age; and was 
buried in the cathedral of Seville, with this inscription 
on his tomb : 

j4 Castilla ya Leon^ 

JVcuvo Mundo dio Colon, 

Translated Thus : 
" To Castile and Leon, 
" Columbus gave a new World. 

In the life of this remarkable man there is no defi- 
ciency of any quality which can constitute a truly- 
great character. His genius was penetrating, and 
iiis judgment solid. He had acquired as much know- 
ledge of the sciences as could be obtained at that day ; 
and he corrected what he had learned by his own ob- 
servations. His constancy and patience were equal to 
the most hazardous undertakings. His fortitude sur- 
mounted many difficulties ; and his ijivention extricat- 
ed him out of many perplexities. His prudence en- 
abled him to conceal or subdue his own infirmities ; 
■whilst he took advantage of the passions of others, 
adjusting his behaviour to his circumstances ; tempo- 
rizing, or acting with vigor, as the occasion required. 

His fidelity to the ungrateful Prince, whom he serv- 
ed, and whose dominions he enlarged, must render 
liim forever conspicuous as an example of justice; and 
liis attachment to the Queen, by whose inliucnce he 
wa,s raised and supported, will always be a monument 
of his gratitude. 

To his other excellent qualities may be added his 
piety. He always entertained, and on proper occa- 
sions expressed a reverence for the Deity, and a jirni 
ronildence in hiscare and protection In bis declining 
days, the consolations of religion were his chief sup- 
poit; and his last words Avere, " Into thy hands, (> 
Lord, I commend my spirit." 

V7heu • 



ftt COLUMBUS* 

When we consider the ignorance, the bigotry, and 
the superstition of the times in which C.okimbus 
achieved his great undertakings, we cannot enough 
admire the bokhiess, the perseverance, and the dex- 
terity of his genius — In ail his plans and enterprises, 
he had to struggle against the pride of Kings, the ma- 
lignity of Priests, and the envy of Courtitis — An an- 
ecdote is recorded by Peter Martyr, a cotemporary 
historian, which displays the quickness of his wit, 
and the consciousness of his superiority — The Cour- 
tiers affected on all occasions to lessen his merits as a 
skilful navigator, by sa\ing, that his discoveries were 

more the result of accident than of knowledge - 

One day at a public dinner, Columbus having borne 
much insulthig raillery on that head, at length called 
for an egg, and asked whether any of them could 
set it upright on its httle end. They all confessed it 
to be impos^ible. Colu-! bus striking it gently, flatted 
the shell till it stood upright on the table. The com- 
pany with a disdainful snter cried out, " Any body 
might have done it." — " Yes (said Columbus) but 
none of you thought of it; so I discovered the Indies, 
and now every pilot can steer the same course. IVIa- 
ny things appear easy when once performed, though 
before, they were thought Impossible. Remember 
the scol'.s that were thrown at me, before T put my de- 
sign in execution. Then it v/as a dream, a chimera, 
a delusion ; now it is what any body might have done 
as well as I." 

This extraordinary man appears to have united two 
qualities, which have been generally thought irrecon- 
cileable ; an enthusiasm bordering on phrenzy, and 
a caution but little removed from fear. Vigorous and 
rapid in conceiving a project, and embracing its detail, 
he determined in a moment the part it became him 
to act ; but his resolution once formed, his enthusi- 
asm vanished,whilst he calmly arranged the means and 
the mode of carrying it into execution. Determined 
in his choice of measures by strong and demonstra- 
tive assurances of their fitness and propriety, he did 

not 



COLUMBUS. 23 

not abandon a project he had once formed. His ardor 
and constcincy were equalled only by his patience and 
and caution. 

The voice of CoUnnbus, as well as his face and 
person, powerfully seconded his exertions ; easily ac- 
commodating tiiemselves, by their pliancy and iiexibi- 
lity, to the several passions he wished to convey. Se- 
rene and tranquU, when he was d^^sirous of concealing 
from his associates, the greatness and imminence of 
their danger ; arde?it, earnest, and spuMted, whii' t he 
sought to reanimate their courage, by the seciucirg 
descriptions of riches and honours. His face bright- 
ened ; his eye appeared to sparkle with hope; and his 
crews, whilst they listened, secretly reproached them- 
selves with having too hastily doubted of the skill and 
fortune of their leader. 

But, independent of his address and presence of 
mind, there was in Columbus an inherent respectabi- 
lity of person and deportment, which humbled the 
crest of lordly distinction, and awed Faction and Envy 
into silence. Even in the Spanish Court, when its 
haughty Monarch returned flushed with his recent 
conquest of Grenada, he found himself compelled^, 
spite of his prejudices, to treat v/ith respect this great 
man of Nature, who stood in his presence unembar- 
rassed and collected. 

Upon the whole — if objects of great and universal 
beneiit shall be preferred to such as are of manifest 
injury — if to discover a world be more honorable 
and advantageous, than to waste and make desolate 
the one, on which mankind, from the b'^ginning of the 
world, have been made miserable by the mad ai^pbi- 
tion of their rulers — if the union of leai-ning, o'" cou- 
rage, and humanity ; of inventive wisdom, and the 
talents of being able to plan, and to accomplish, be 
more deserving our esteem and admiration, than the 
inhuman art of wasting with tire and sword, and of 
murdering mihions in battle — thechaiacter of Colum- 
bus may safely challenge a superiority above the 
proudest conqucrers recorded in history. 



( 24 ) 

AMERIGO VESPUCCI. 

ALL the attempts towards discovery had hithert© 
been carried on in Spain by Columbus alone^ 
at the expence of the Crown ; but now private adven- 
turers, alKired by the magnificent descriptions he 
gave of the regions which he had visited, as well as 
by the specimens of their wealth which he produced, 
offered to fit out squadrons at their own risk, and to 
go in quest of new countries. The Spanish court, 
whose scanty revenues were exhausted by the charge 
of its expeditions to the New World, which, though 
they opened alluring prospects of future benefit, yield- 
ed a very sparing return of present profit, was ex- 
tremely willing to devolve the burden of discovery upon 
its subjects. It seized an opportunity of rendering 
the avarice, the ingenuity, and efforts of projectoi's, 
instrumental in promoting designs of certain advan- 
tage to the public, though of doubtful success with 
respect to themselves. One of the first propositions 
of this kind was made by Alonzo de Ojeda, a gallant 
and active officer, who had accompanied Columbus in 
his second voyage. His rank and character procured 
him such credit with the merchants of Seville, that 
they undertook to equip four ships, provided he could 
obtain the royal licence authorising the voyage. The 
powerful patronage of the Bishop of Badajos easily 
secured success in a suit so agreeable to the Court, 
Without consulting Columbus, or regarding the rights 
and jurisdiction which he had acquired by the capitu- 
lation in 1492, Ojeda was permitted to set out for the 
New World. In order to direct his course, tlie Bi- 
shop communicated to him the Admiral's journal of 
his last voyage, and his charts of the countries which 
he had discovered. Ojeda struck out into no new path 
of navigation, but adhering servilely to the rout which 
Columbus had taken, arrived on the coast of Paria. 
He traded with the natives and standing to the west, 
proceeded as far as Cape de Vela, and ranged along 
a considerable extent of coast beyond that on which 
Columbus had touched. Having thus ascertained tho 

opi^ 



AMERIGO VESPUCCI. 2 



'^j 



opinion of Columbus, tliat this country was a part of 
the continent, Ojeda returned by Avay of Hispaniola to 
Spain, with some reputation as a discoverer, but witli 
little benefit to those who had raised the funds for tlie 
expedition. 

Amerigo Vespucci, a Florentine gentleman, ac- 
companied Ojeda in this voyage. In what station he 
served is uncertain ; but as he was an experienced sai- 
lor, and eminently skilful in all the sciences subservi- 
ent to navigation, he seems to have acquired such au- 
thority among his companions, that they willingly al- 
lowed him to have a chief share in directing their o- 
perations during the voyage. Soon after his return, 
he transmitted an account of his adventures and disco- 
veries to one of his countrymen ; and labouring with 
the vanity of a traveller to magnify his own exploits, 
he had the address and confidence to frame his narra- 
tive, so as to make it appear that /le had the glory of • 
having first discovered the New World. Amerigo's 
account was drawn up not only with art, but with 
som3 elegance. It contained an amusing history of 
his voyage, and judicious observations upon the natu- 
ral productions, the inhabitants, and the customs of 
the countries which he had visited. As it was the first 
description of any part of the New World that was 
pui)lished, a performance so well calculated to gratify 
the passion of mankind for what is new and marvel- 
lous, ciiculated rapidly, and was read with admiration. 
The country of which Amerigo was supposed to be; 
the discoverer, came gradually to be called bv his 
n:\me. The caprice of mankind, often, as unaccount- 
able as unjust, has perpetuated this error. By the 
universal consent of nations, America is the name be- 
stowed on this neAv quarter of the globe. The bold 
pretensions of a fortunate impostor, have robbed the 
real discoverer of the newVv^orld of a distinction which 
belonged to him. The name of Jmerigo has supplant- 
ed that of Coliunbus' ; and mankind may regret an act 
of injustice, which, having received the sanction of 
lime, it is now too late to redress. 

C 



( ^6 ) 



JOHN AND SEBASTIAN CABOT. 

THE economical disposition of Henry VH. King" 
of England, induced him to preserve tranquil- 
lity in his dominions, which greatly contributed to 
the increase of commerce and ; manufactures, and to 
bring thither, merchants from all parts of Europe. 
The Lombards and the Venetians were remarkably 
numerous ; the former of whom had a street in Lon* 
don appropriated to them, and called by their name. 

Among the Venetians resident there at that tirae^ 
was John Cabot, a man perfectly skilled in all the 
sciences requisite to form an accomplished mariner. 
He had three sons, Lewis, Sanctius, and Sebastian, 
all of whom he educated in the same manntr. Lewis 
and Sanctius became eminent men, and settled, the 
one at Genoa, the other at Venice. Of Sebastian a 
farther account will be given. 

The famous discovery made by Columbus caused 
great admiration and much discourse in the court of 
Henry, and among the merchants of England. To 
find a way to India by the west, had long been a prob- 
lem with men of science, as well as a desideratum in 
the mercantile interest. The way was then supposed 
to be opened ; and the specimens of gold, which Co- 
lumbus had brought home, excited the warmest desire 
of pursuing that discovery. 

Cabot, by his knowledge of the globe, supposed 
that a shorter way might be found from England to 
India by the northwest. Having communicated his 
project to the King, it was favourably received ; and 
on the 5th of March 1496, a commission was granted 
to " John Cabot, and his three sons, their heirs, and 
deputies^ giving them liberty to sail to all parts of east, 
ivest, and north, under the royal banners, and ensigns ; 
to discover cguntriss of the heathen^ unkno'wn to chrisr 

iia?is 



CABOT, 27 

tlajis ; to set up the King's banners there ; to occupy 
and possess as his subjects, such places as they could 
subdue; giving them the rule and jurisdiction of the 
same, to beholden on condition of paying to the King, 
as often as they should arrive at Bristol, (at ■which 
place only they were permitted to arrive) in wares and 
merchandise, one fifth part of all their gains ; with 
exemption from all duties on such merchandise as 
should be brought from their discoveries. 

After the granting of this commission, the King 
gave orders for fitting out two caravals for the purpose 
of the discovery. These were victualled at the public 
expence ; and freighted by the merchants of London 
and Bristol, with coarse cloths and other articles of 
traffic. The whole company consisted of 300 men. 

Withthjs eqiupment in the beginning of May 1497, 
John Cabot and his son Sebastian sailed from Bristol 
towards the northwest, till they reached the latitude 
of 58; where meeting with floating ice, and the wea- 
ther being severely cold, they altered their course to 
the southwest ; not expecting to find any land till they 
should arrive at Cathay, the northern part of China, 
from whence they intended to pass southward to India. 

On the 24th of June, very early in the morning, 
they were surprised with the sight of land ; which be- 
ing the first they had seen, they called Prima Vi'ita, 
The description of it is given in these words : " The 
island which lielh out before the land, he called St. 
John, because it was discovered on the day of St. Jolm 
the Baptist. The inhabitants of this island wear 
beasts' skins. In their wars, they use bows, arrows, 
pikes, darts, wooden clubs, and slings. The soil is 
barren in some places and yieldeth little fruit ; but is 
full of white bears and stags, far greater than curs. 
It yieldeth plenty of fish, and those very great, as 
seals and salmons. There are soles above a yard in 
length ; but especially there is great abundance of 
that kind of fish which the savages call Bacalao (Cod). 
In the same island are hawks and eagles, as black as 
ravens ; also patridges. The inhabitants had great 
plenty of copper.'' 



i8 CABOT. 

This land is generally supposed to be some part of 
tlie island of Nowfoundland ; and Dr. Forster thinks 
that the name Prima Fh-fa, was afterward changed to 
J3o7ia Vhta^ now the northern cape of Trinity bay, in 
latitude 48 50. Peter Martyr's account is, that Cabot 
called the land Bacaloas ; and there is a small island 
off the south cape of Trinity bay which bears that 
name. Mr. Prince, in his chronology, (citing Galva- 
iiusforan anthority) says, that the land discovered by 
Cabot was in latiiude 45. If this were true, the first 
discovery was made on the peninsula of Nova Scotia ; 
and as they coasted the land northward, they must 
have gone into the gulf of St. Lawrence in pursuit of 
their northwest passage.* 

Poinding the land still stretching to the northward, 
and the weather very cold in the month of July, the 
men became uneasy, and the commanders found it 
necessary to return to Bacaloas. Having here refresh- 
<d themselves, tiiey coasted the land southv/ard, till 
they came into the same latitude with the straits of Gib- 
raltar 36, or, according to some, no farther than 38, 
when their provision falling short, they returned to 
Kngland, bringing three of the Savages as a present to 
the King. " They were cloathed with the skins of 
Leasts, and lived on raw flesh ; but after two years, 
were seen in the King's court cloathed like Enghsh- 
jnen, and could not be discerned from Englishmen." 

Notiiing more is said of John Cabot the father, and 
some historians ascribe the whole of this discovery to 
Sebastian only; but at the time of this voyage he 
could not have been more than 20 years old ; when, 
though he might accampany his father, yet he was too 
yonng to undertake such an expedition himself. The 
voyage having produced no specimens of gold ; and the 

King 

* The beft accounts of the voyage, preferved by Hakluyt 
and Purclias, fay nothing of the latitude of Prima Vifta, but 
fpeak of their failing northward, after they had made the land 
as far as (^7.— Stowe, in his Chronicle, fays " it was on the 
north fide of Terra de Labrador." This courfe muft have car- 
ried them far up the firait which feparates Greenland from 
the continent of America. 



CA30 T. 29 

King being engaged in a controvei'sy with Scotland, no 
farther encouragement waa given to the spirit of dis- 
covery. 

After the King's death, Sebastian Cal)ot was invited 
to Spain, and was received in a respectful manner 
by King Ferdinand and Queen Isabelhu In their ser- 
vice he sailed on a vovage of discovery to the southern 
parts of the New Continent; and having visited the 
coast of Brazil, entered a great river to which he gr.ve 
th- name of Rio de la Plata. He sailed up this river 
120 leagues; and found it divided into many branch- 
es, the shores of which were inhabited by numerous 
people. 

After this, he made other voyages, of which no 
particular memorials remain. He was lionoured by 
Ferdinand, with a commission of Grand Pilot, and 
was one of the council of the Indies. Plis residence 
was in the city of Seville. His character was gentle, 
friendly, and social. His employment was the drawing 
of charts ; on which he delineated all the new disco- 
veries made by himself and others. Peter Martyr 
speaks of him a,s his friend, with whom he loved fami- 
liarly to converse. 

In his advanced age, he returned to PIngland, and 
resided at Bristol. By the favour of the Duke of Som- 
erset, he was introduced to King Edward VI. who 
look great delight in his conversation and settled on 
liim a pension of 166/. 13s. 4d. per anntmi for life. 
He was appointed governor of a company of mer- 
chants, associated for the pui-pose of making discover- 
ies of unknown countries, ihis is a proof of the 
great esteem, in which he was held as a man of knov/- 
ledge and experience in his profession. He had a 
strong persuasion thut a passage might be found to 
China, by the northeast, and v/annly patronised the 
attempt made by Sir Hugh Willoughby in 1553 to 
explore the northern seas, for that purpose. There 
is still extant a complete set of instructions drawn and 
.subscribed by Cabot, for the direction of the voyage 
to Cathay, which aHbrds the clearest proof of his sa. 

gacity 



30 CABOT. 

gacity and penetration. But though this, as well as 
all other attempts of the kjnd, proved ineffectual to 
the principal end in view, yet it was the means of o- 
pening a trade with Russia, which proved very bene- 
iicial to the company. 

The last account which we have of Sebastian is, 
that in i556, when the company were sending out a 
vessel called the Search-ihrift, under the command 
of Stephen Burrough, for discovery, the Governor 
made a visit on board, which is thus related in the 
journal of the voyage as preserved by Hakluyt: 

" The 2rth of April, beirg Monday, the Right 
Worshipful Sebastian Cabota came aboard our pinnace, 
at Gravesend, accompanied* with divers gentlemen 
and gentlewomen ; who, after they had viewed our 
pinnace, and tasted of such cheer as we could make 
them, went ashore, giving to our mariners right libe- 
ral rewards. The good old gentleman. Master Cabota, 
gave to the poor most liberal alms, wishing them to 
pray for the good fortune and prosperous success of 
the Search-thrifty our pinnace. And then at the sign 
of St. Christopher, he and his friends banqueted ; 
and made me and them that were in the company 
great cheer ; and for very joy that he had to see the 
towardness of our intended discovery, he entered in- 
to the dance himself,* among the rest of the young 
and lusty company ; which being ended, he and his 
friends departed, most gently commending us to the 
governance of Almighty God." 

Cabot was one of the most extraordiaary men of 
the age in which he lived. By his ingenuity and in- 
dustry, he enlarged the bounds of science and promot- 
ed the interest of the English nation. Dr. Campbell 
supposes it was him who tirst took notice of the varia- 
tion of the magnetic needle. It had been observed in 
the first voyage of Columbus to the West Indies ; tho* 
probably Cabot might not have known it, till after he 
had made the same discovery. 

.♦ Cabot was then about eighty years old. 



( 31 ) 



JAMES CARTIER.. 

THOUGH the English did not prosecute the dis- 
covery made by the Cabots, nor avail themselves 
of the only advantages which it could ha.ve afforded 
tliem, yet their neighbours of Britanny,* Normandy, 
and Biscay, wisely pursued the track of those adven- 
turers, and took vast quantities of cod on the banks of 
Newfoundland. 

In 1524, John Verazzani, a Florentine t in the ser- 
vice of France, ranged the coast of the new continent 
from Florida to Newfoundland, and gave it the name 
of Nciv- France* In a subsequent voyage he was cut 
to pieces aud devoured by the savages. 

The voyages of Verazzani having produced no ad- 
dition to the revenues of France, all further attempts 
to perfect his discoveries were laid aside ; but the fish- 
ery being found conducive to the commercial interest, 
it was at length conceived, that a plantation in the 
lieighbourhood of the banks might be advantageous. 
This being represented to King Francis I. by Chabot 
the Admiral, James Cartier of St. Malo, was com* 
missioned to explore the country, with a view to find 
a place for a colony. 

On the 20th of April 1534, he sailed from St. Male 
with two ships of 60 tons, and 122 men ; and on the 
10th of May, came in sight of Bona Vista, in New- 
foundland. But the ice, which lay along the shore o- 
bliged him to go southward j and he entered a har- 
bour 

* It is fuppofed, that the ifland of Cape Breton took its 
name from the Bretons, the fifliermen of Brittany. 

f It is remarkable, that the three great European nations, 
England, France, and Spain, employed three ItaHans to con- 
du(ft their difcoveries — Columbus, a Genoefe ; Cabot, a Vene- 
tian; and Verazzani, a Florentine— a proof, that there were 
at that time, men amongft the Italians fuperior in maritime 
knowledge to the reft of Europe. 



32 CARTIER. 

hour to which he gave the name of St. Catharine ? 
where he waited for fair weather, and fitted his boats* 

As soon as the season wonld permit he sailed north- 
ward > and examined several harbours and islands, ou 
the coast of Newfoundland ; in one of which he found 
such a quantity of birds, that in half an hour two 
boats were loaded with them ; and after they had eat- 
en as many as they could, five or six barrels full were 
salted for each ship. This place was called Bird 
Island. 

IIavin(j passed Cape de Grat, the northern extremi- 
ty of the land, h.e entered the straits of Bellisle, and 
visited several harbours on the opposite coast of La- 
brador, one of which he called Cartier's Sound. The 
liarbour is described as one of the best in the world, 
but the land is stigmatized as the place to which Cain 
was banished; no vegetation being produced among 
the rocks, but thorns and moss. Yet, bad as it was, 
there were inhabitants in it, who lived by catching 
seals, and seemed to be a wandering tribe. 

In circumnavigating the great island of Newfound- 
land, they found the weather in general cold ; but 
when they had crossed the gulf in a southwesterly di- 
rection to the cuiitinentj they came into a deep bay, 
where the climate was so warm, that they named it 
Baye de Chaleur, or the Bay of Heat. Here were 
«>everal kinds of wild berries, roses, and meadows of 
grass. In the fresh waters they caught salmon in 
great plenty. 

Having searched in vain for a passage thro' the bay, 
tliey quilted it, and sailed along the coast eastward 
till they came to the smaller bay of Gaspe ; where 
they sought shelter from a tempest, and were detained 
12 days in the month of July. In this place Cartier 
performed the ceremony of taking possession for the 
King of France. A cross of 30 feet high was erect- 
ed on a point of land. On this cross was suspended 
a, shield, with the arms of France, and the words Vive 
Ic Roy de France. Before it, the people kneeled, un- 
covered, with their hands extended; and their eyes. 

lift. 



CARTIER. 33 

"Kfted toward Heaven. The natives, who were pre- 
sent, beheld the ceremony at first with silent admira- 
tion J but after a while, an old man, clad in a bear's 
skin, made signs to them that the land was his, and 
that they should not have it without his leave. They 
then informed him by signs, that the cross was intend- 
ed only as a mark of direction, by which they might 
again find the port ; and they promised to return the 
next year, and to bring iron and other commodities. 

They thought it proper however to conciliate the 
old man's good will, by entertaining him on boawl the 
chip and making him several presents, by which 
means, they so prevailed on him, that he permitted 
Cartier to carry two of his sons, young n^en, to France 
on the security of a promise that he would bring them 
back at his return the next spring. 

From Gaspe, he sailed so far into the Great River, 
afterward called St. Lawrence, as to discover land on 
•the opposite side ; but the weather being boisterous, 
and the current setting against him, he tho't it best to 
return to Newfoundland, and then to France; where 
Jie arrived safe in the harbour of St. Malo on the Sih 
of September. . 

The discoveries made in this voyage excited farther 
curiosity.; and the Vice Admiral Mel! eraye represent- 
ed Cartier's merits to the King, so favourably, as to 
procure for him a more ample equipment. Three 
ships, one of 120, one of .<pO, and one of 40 tons, 
were destined to perform another voyage in the ensu- 
ing spring; and several young men of distinctioi: en- 
tered as volunteers, to seek adventures in the new 
world. Wiien they were jeady to suil, the wliolc 
•company^ after the example of Columbus, went in 
procession to church on Whitsunday, where the Bi- 
shop pronounced his blessing on them. They sailed 
-on the 19th of May 1535. Meeting with tempestuous 
v/eather, the ships were separated^ and dkl not join a- 
]gain, till Cartier in the largest ship arrived at Bird 
isljind, where he again filled his boats with fowls, ancl 
cja the 26th of July was joined by the other vessels. 

c 2 r^'ftift 



34 CARTIEII. 

From Bird Island they pursued tlie same course a3 
in the precedhig snmmer ; and having come into the 
gulf on the western side of Newfoundland, gave it the 
name of St. Lawrence. Here they saw abundance of 
Tvhales. Passing between the island of Assumption 
(since called Anticosti) and the northern shore, they 
sailed up the great river, till they came to a branch on 
the northern side, which the young natives who were 
on board called Saguenay ; the main river they told 
him would carry him to Ilockelaga, the capital of the 
whole country. 

After spending some time in exploring the northern 
coast, to find an opening to the northward, in the be- 
ginning of September, he sailed up the river and dis- 
covered several islands, one of which, from the mul- 
titude of filberts, he called Coudres ; and another, 
from the vast quantity of grapes, he named Bacchus, 
(now Orleans.) This island was full of inhabitants, 
who subsisted by fishing. 

Wlien the ships had come to anchor between ihe 
N. W. side of the island and the main, Cartier vent 
on shore with his two young Savages. The people of 
the country were at tirst afraid of them ; but hearing 
tlie youths speak to them in their own language, they 
became sociable, and brought jecls and other fish, 
with a quantity of Indian corn in ears for the refresh- 
ment of their ncv/ guests; in return for which, they 
iverc presented with such European baubles as were 
pleasing to them. 

The' next day, Donacona, the Prince of the place, 
came to visit them, attended by twelve boats ; but 
keeping ten of them at a distance, be approached with 
two only, containing 16 men. In the true spirit of 
hospitality, he made a speech, accompanied with sig- 
niticant gestures, welcoming the French to his coun- 
try, f.nd oHering lils service to them The young sa- 
vages, Taignoat;ni and Dcinagaia, answered him, i-e- 
porting all which they had seen in France, at which 
he appeared to be pleased. Then approaching the 
Captain, who held out his hand, he kissed it, and laid 
it rcund his neck, in token of £ilendsl\ip. Cartier, on 

his 



CARTIER. 35 

his part entertained Donacona Avith bread and wine, 
and they parted mutually pleased. 

The next day, Cartier went up in his i)oat to find a 
harbour for his ships, the season being so far advanc- 
ed that it became necessary to secure them. At the 
west end of the isle of Bacchus, he foimd ** a goodly 
and pleasant sound, w^here is a little river and haven, 
about three feet deep at high water." To this he 
gave the gave the name of St. Croix, and deter- 
mined thereto lay up his ships. 

When Cartier had brought his ships to the harbour 
and secured them, he intimated his intention to pass 
in his boats up the river to Hockelaga. Donacona 
was loth to part with him, and invented several artifi- 
ces to prevent his going thither. Among others, he 
contrived to dress three of his men in black and white 
skins, with horns on their heads, and their faces be- 
smeared with coal, to make them resemble infernal 
spirits. They were put into a canoe and passed by 
tlie ships, brandishing their horns and making an un- 
intelligible harangue. Donacona, with his people pur- 
sued and took them? on which they fell down as if 
dead. They were carried ashore into the woods, 
and all the savages followed them. A long discourse 
ensued, and the conclusion of the farce was, that these 
demons had brought news from the God of Hockela- 
ga, that his country was so full of snow and ice, tliat 
whoever should adventure thither would perish with 
the cold. The artifice afibrded diversion to the French, 
but was too thin to deceive them. Cartier determintd 
to proceed; and on the 19lh of September, with his 
pinnace and two boats, began his voyage up the river 
to Hockelaga. 

The water at that time of the year being low, their 
passage was rendered dilficult ; but by the friendly as- 
sistance of the natives they surmounted the obstruc- 
tions. On the 28th of September they passed the ra-r 
pids between the islands in the upper part of the lake 
Angoleme (now called St. Peters), and on the 2d of 
October they arrived at tlie island of Hockelaga ; 

where 



36 CARTIER. 

wliere they had been expected, and preparations were 
made to give them a welcome reception. About 1000 
persons came to meet them, singing and dancing, the 
men on one side, the women on the other, and the 
children in a distinct body. Presents of fish and 
other victuals were brought, and in return were 
given knives, bqads and other trinkets. The French- 
men lodged the first night in their boats, and the na- 
tives watched on the shore, dancing round their fires 
during the whole night. 

The next morning, Cartier, with 25 of his company, 
went to visit the town, and were met on the way by a. 
person of di^itinclion, who bade them welcome. To 
ijim they gave two hatchets and two knives, and hung 
over his neck a cross, which they taught him to kiss. 
As they proceeded, they passed through groves of 
oak, from which the acorns were fallen, and lay thick 
on the ground. After this, they came to fields of ripe 
corn, some of v^hich was gathered. In the midst of 
these fields was situated the town of Hockelaga. 

It was of ai'ound form, encompassed wiUi <hree lines 
of palisades, thro' wliich was one entrance, well secured 
with stakes and bars. On the inside was a rampart of 
timber, to which were ascents by ladders, and heaps 
of stones were laid in proper places for defence. In 
ihe town were about fifty long huts, built with stakes, 
and covered with l)ark. In the middle of each hut was 
a fire, round which were lodging-places, fioored with 
bark, and covei'cd with skins. In the upper part was 
a scaflbid, on which they preserved and dried their 
corn. To prepare it for eating, they pounded it in 
wooden Jnorlavs, and having mixed it with water, bak- 
ed it on hot stones. Besides corn, they had beans, 
squashes and pumpkins. They dried their fish, and 
preserved them in troughs. These people lived chief- 
ly by tillage and fislnng, and seldom went far from 
)iome. Those on the lower parts of the river were 
more given to hunting, and considered the Lord of 
Hockelaga as their sovereign, to whom they paid tri-. 

bute. 

VVheR 



cartier: s7 

When the new guests were conducted to an open 
square, in the centre of the town, the females came to 
them, rubbing their hands and faces, weeping with joy 
at their arrival, and bringing their children to be touch- 
ed by the strangers. They spread mats for them on 
the ground, whilst the men seated themselves in a large 
circle on the outside. The king was then brought in 
a litter, on the shoulders often men, and placed on a 
mat, next to the French captain. He was about 50 
years old, and had no mark of distinction but a coronet 
made of porcupine's quills dyed red, which he took off 
and gave to the captain, requesting him to rub his 
arms and legs which were trembling with a palsy. Se- 
. veral persons, blind, lame, and withered with age, were 
also brought to be touched, as if they supposed tlieir 
new guests were messengers from Heaven, invested 
with a power of healing diseases. Cartier gratiried 
tliem as well as he could, by laying his hands on them 
and repeating some devotional passages from a service- 
book which he had in his pocket, accompanying his 
ejaculations with significant gestures, and lifting up liis 
eyes to heaven* The natives attentively observed and 
imitated all his motions. 

Having performed this <:eremony, he desired the 
men, women and children to arrange themselves in se- 
parate bodies. To the men he gave hatchets, to the 
women Ijeads, and to the children rings,. He then or- 
dered his drums and trumpets to sound, which highly 
pleased the company, and set them to dancing. 

Being desirous of ascending the hill, under which 
the town was built, the natives conducted them to the 
summit, where thev were entertained with a most ex- 
tensive and beaiitiful prospect of mountains, woods, 
islands and waters* They observed the course of the 
river above, and some falls of water in il; and the na- 
tives informed them, that they might sail on it for 3 
months ; that it ran through two or three great lakes, 
beyond which was a sea of fresh water, to which they 
4f new of no bounds ; and that, on the other side of tlie 
iiiountainsj there was another river which ran in a 



33 CARTIER. 

contrary direction to the southwest, through a country 
full of delicious fruits, and free from snow and ice ; 
that there was found such metal as the captain's silver. 
wliistle, and the haft of a dagger belonging* to one of 
the company which was gilt with gold. Being shewn 
some co])per, they pointed to the northward, and said 
it came from Saguenay. To this hill Cartier gave the 
name of Montreal, which it has ever since retained. 

On the 4th of October, Cartier and his company de- 
parted from Hockelaga. In passing down the river, 
they erected a cross on the point of an island, wliich, 
with three others, lay in the mouth of a shallow river 
on the north side, called Fouetz. On the 11th, they 
arrived at the port de St. Croix, and found that their 
companions had enclosed the ships with a palisade and 
rampart, on which they had mounted cannon: 

The next day, Donacona invited them to his resi- 
dence, where they were entertained with the usual fes- 
tivity, and made the customary presents. They ob- 
served that these people used the leaves of an herb 
[tobacco] which they preserved in pouches made of 
skins, and smoked in stone pipes. Jt was very oflen- 
sive to the French ; but the natives valued it, as con- 
tributing much to the preservation of their health. 
Their houses appeared to be well supplied with provi- 
sions. Among other things which were new to the 
French, they observed the scalps of tive men, spread 
and dried like parchment. These were taken frora 
their enemies, the Toudamani, who came from the 
south, and were continually at war witii them. 

Being determined to spend the winter among these 
friendly people, they traded with them for the provi- 
sions which they could spare, and the river supplied 
them with tish till it was hard frozen. 

In December, the scurvy began to make its appear- 
ance among the natives, and Cartier prohibited all in- 
tercourse with them ; but it was not long before his 
own men were taken with it. It raged with uncon- 
trolled violence for above two months, and by the mid- 
dle of February, out of one hundred and ten personsj 
fifty were sick at orcc; and eight or ten had died. 



cartier; 39 

In this extremity, Cartier appointed a day of solemn 
humiliation and prayer. A crucifix was placed on a 
tree, and as many as were able to walk went in pro- 
cession, through the ice and snow, singing tl^e seven 
penitential psalms and performing other devotional 
exercises. At the close of the solemnity Cartier 
made a vow, that " if it would please God to permit 
him to return to France, he would go in pilgrimage to 
our Lady of Roquemado," But it was necessary to 
watch as well as pray. To prevent the natives from 
knowing their weak and defenceless state, he obliged 
all who were able, to make as much noise as possible 
with axes and hammers; and told the natives, that his 
men were all busily employed, and that he would not 
suffer any one to go from the ships till their work was 
done. The ships were fast frozen up from the mid- 
dle of November to the middle of March ; the snow 
was four feet deep, and higher than the sides of the 
ships above the ice. The severity of the winter ex- 
ceeded all which they had ever experienced ; the 
scurvy still raged; 25 men had fallen victims to it, 
and the others were so weak and low in spirits, that 
they despaired of ever seeing their native country, 
and often repented their thirst for gold. 

In the depth of this distress and despondency, Cnr- 
tier, who had escaped the disease, in walking one day 
on the ice, met some of the natives, among whom was 
Domagaia, one of the young men wlio had been with 
iiim to France, and who then resided with his country- 
men at Stadacona, He had been sick with the scurvy; 
his sinews had been shrunk and his eyes swollen, his 
teeth loose and his gums rotten ; but he was then re- 
covered, and told Cartier of a certain tree, the leaves 
and bark of which he had used as a remedy. Cartier 
expressed his wish to see the tr;;e, telling him that 
one of his people had been alTected with the same dis- 
order. Two Vv'omen were immediately dispatched, 
v/ho brought ten or twelve branches, and showed him 
how to prepare the decoction, which was thus, " to 
boil the bark and Uie leaves, to drink of the liquor eve- 
ry 



40 CARTIER. 

zy other day, and to put the dregs on the legs of the 
sick."* 

This remedy presently came into use on board the 
ships, and its good eilects were so surprising, that, 
"ivithin one week, they were completely hea: I of the 
scurvy; and some who had venereal complaints i)f long 
standing were also cured by the same means. 

The severity of winter having continued 4 months 
without intermission, at the return of the sun the sea- 
son became milder, and in April the ice began to break 
up. On the 3d of May, Cartier took possession of the 
country by erecting across 56 feet high, on which was 
hung a shield, bearing the arms of France, with this 
inscription : Fkanciscus /irlmics, JJei gratia , Franco- 
hum, /^e^jc, rf^-nar. 

The same day, being a day of festivity, the two 
young savages, Taignoagni and Domagaia, with Do- 
nacona, the chief of tiie place, came on board the ships, 
and were partly prevailed on, and partly constrained, to 
accompany Cartier to France. A handsome present 
was made to the family of Donacona ; but it was with 
great reluctance that his friends parted with him, tho' 
Cartier promised to bring him again at the end of 12 
months. On the 6lh of May, they sailed from the 
port of St. Croix, and having touched at St. Peter's in 
Newfoundland, they arrived at St. Malo in France the 
6th of Jul v 1536. 

Whether Cartier perfomied his vow to Go.d, the his- 
tory does not tell us ; certain it is, however, that he did 
not perform his promise to his passengers. The zeal 
for adventures of tltis kind began to abate. Neither 

gold 

* This tree was called "by the natives Jnteda, or Haiieda — 
•Hakluyt fuppofes it to have been the SafTufras ; but as the 
-Jeaves were ufed with the bark, in the winter, it mull have 
"been an evergreen ; t}ie dregs of the bark were alfo applied to 
the loi-e legs of the patient. From thefe circumftances, it is 
ihcught, that it was the Spruce Pine fPhnis Ccaaclerjis J v.-]:\ich 
is uled in the fame manner by the Indians — Spruce Beer is 
well known to be a jiowerful anti-fcorbutic, and the bark of 
5t and the White Pine fervjes «i.s_a cataplafm for wounds Aiui 
j£brcs. 



CARTIER. 41 

gold nor silver were carriLd home. The advantac^es 
of the fur trade were not fully uiiderstood ; and the 
prospect of !>enePit from (viKivation in the short sum- 
mer of that cold climite, was greatly overbalanced by 
the length and severity of a Canadian winter The 
natives had been so often told of the necessity of bap- 
lism, in order to salvation, f.hat, on their arrival in 
France, they were, at their own rtquest- baptized ; 
but neither of them lived to see their native land again. 

The report which Cartier brought home, of the fine 
country beyond the lalces, had, however, made such an 
impression on the minds of some, that, at the end of 
four years, another expedition was projected. Francis 
de la Roche, lord of Roberval, was commissioned by 
tlie King as his lieutenant goverimr in Canada and 
Ilockelaga, and Cartier was appointed his pilot, with 
tlie command of tive ships. Vvhen they were ready 
to sail, Robervai had not finished his preparations, and 
was therefore deiained. The king's orders to Cartier 
being positive, he sailed from St. Malo on the 23d of 
May 1540. 

The winds were adverse, and the voyage tedious. 
The ships were scattered, and did not arrive at the 
place of their destination till the 23d of August, when 
thry came to the port of St. Croix in the river of Ca- 
nada. 

The first enquiry made by the natives was for their 
countrymen who had been carried away. The answer 
was, that Donacona was dead, and that the others had 
become great lords, were married in France, and re- 
fused to return. Neither sorrow nor resentment were 
shov/n on this occasion ; but a secret jealousy, which 
had long been working, received strength from an an- 
swer so Hable to suspicion. 

As the occount of the expedition ends here, we can 
only remark that the colony was broken up, and no 
farther attempt was made by the French to establish 
themselves in Canada, till after the expiration of half 
a century. The l?.st account of Roberval is, that in 
1549, he sailed with his brother on some voyage of 
iliscovery, and never returned. 



42 CARTIER. "^ 

In this first visit, which the natives of Canada re- 
ceived from the Europeans, we have a striking in- 
stance of tiieir primitive manners. Suspecting no 
danger, and influenced by no fear, they embraced the 
stranger with unaffected joy. Their huts were open 
to receive him, their tires and furs to give warmth and 
rest to his weary Umbs; their food was shared with 
him or given in exchange for his trifles ; they were 
ready with their simple medicines to heal his diseases 
and his wounds ; they would wade thro' rivers and 
climb rocks and mountains to guide him in his way, 
and they would remember and requite his kindness 
more than it deserved. 

Unhappily for them they set too high a value on 
their new guest. Imagining him to be of a heavenly 
origin, they were extravagant and unguarded in their 
first attachment, and from some specimens of his su- 
periority, obvious to their senses, they expected moie 
than ought ever to be expected from beings of the 
same species. But when the mistake was discovered, 
and the stranger whom they had adored, proved to be 
no more than human, having the same inferior desires 
and passions with themselves ; especially when they 
foimcl their confidence niisplaced, and their generous 
friendship ill requited, then the rage of jealousy ex- 
tinguished the virtue of benevolence ; and they strug- 
gled to rid themselves of him, as an enemy, whom 
they had received into their bosom as a friend. 

On the other hand, it was too common for the Eu- 
ropean adventurer, to regard the man of nature as an 
inferior being ; and whilst he availed himself of his 
strength and experience, to abuse his conBdence, and 
repay his kindness with insult and injury ; to stigma- 
tize him as a heathen and a savage, and to bestow on 
liim the epithets of deceitful, treacherous, and cniel, 
tho' he himself hud first set the example of these de- 
testable vices. 



( 43 ) 



aiWHMMMMWMM— — — — — ■ I HI IHIIW fm 



FERDINANDO DE SOTO. 

AFTER the conquest of IVrexico and Peru, in the 
beginning of the 16th century, the incxthi- 
fjuishable thirst for gold, which had seized the Spanish 
adventurers, prompted them to search for that be- 
witching metal wherever there could be any prospect 
of finding it. Three unsuccessful attempts had been 
made in Florida, by Ponce, Gomez, andNarvaez; but 
because these adventurers did not penetrate the inte- 
rior parts of the continent, Ferdinando de Soto, 
Governor of Cuba, who had been a companion of the 
Pizarros in their Peruvian expedition, and had there 
amassed much wealth, projected a march into Florida, 
of which country he had the title of Adelantado, or 
President. He sailed from the port of Havannah, IVIay 
18th, 1539, with nine vessels, 600 men, 213 horses, 
and a herd of swine, and arrived on the 30th of the 
same month in the bay of Espiritu Santo, on the west- 
ern coast of the peninsula of Florida. 

Being a soldier of fortvuie and determined on con- 
quest, he immediately pitched his camp and secured 
it. A foraging party having met with a few Indians 
who resisted them, two were killed, the others escap- 
ed, and reported to their countrymen that the ivarriois 
of fire had invaded their territories ; upon which the 
smaller towns were deserted and the natives hid in the 
woods. 

Having met witli a Spaniard of the party of Nar- 
vaez, who had been wrecked on the coast, and had 
been 12 years a captive witli the Indians, Solo made 
use of him as a messenger to them to inquire; for gold 
and silver ; and wherever he could receive any infor- 
mation respecting these precious metals, thither he di- 
rected tis march. 

His 



-44 SOTO, "^ 

His manner of marching was this: The horsemen 
carrif d baj^^s of corn and oilier provisions ; the tbotjuen 
marrJiecl by the side of the horses, an J. the swine wtrii 
driven before them. When they nrst landed they natl 
13 female swine, which in two years iacruased to se- 
veral hundreds; the warmth of the climate ijc-ing fa- 
vourable to their propagation, and the iorests yicluing 
them a plenty of food. 

The hrst summer and winter were spent in the pen- 
insula of Florida, not far from the bay of Apaiache ; 
and in the beginning of the following spring, having 
sent back his vessels to Cuba for supplies, and left a 
part of his men at the port, where he expected the 
ships to return, he marched toward the north and east 
in search of a place called Yupaha, where he had been 
informed there was gold. 

In this march he crossed the river Altamaha and 
probably the Ogecbee, and came, as he was informed, 
within two days journey of the bay of St. Helena, 
where the Spaniards had been several years before. In 
all this march he staid not more than a week in any 
one place. 

He then set his face northward, and having passed 
a hilly country, he came to a district called Chalaque, 
which is suj)posed to be the comitry now called Chero- 
kee on the upper branches of the river Savannah, 
Thence he turned westM'ard, in search of a place cal- 
ied Chiaha, and in this route he crossed the Allegany 
ridge and came to Chiaha, where his horses and men 
being excessively fatigued, he rested 30 days. The 
liorses fed in a meadow, and the people lay under the 
trees, the weather being very hot and the natives in 
peace. i^his was in the months of May and June. 
Duiing their abode they heard of a country called Chis- 
ca, where was copper and another metal of the same 
colour. This couiUry lay northward, and a party 
M'as sent with Indian guides to view it. Their report 
was, that the mountains were impassable, and Soto 
did not attempt to proceed any farther in that direc- 
tion. 

From 



s 



SOTO. 4 

From a careful inspection of the maps in the Ame- 
rican Atlas, I am inclined to think that the place 
where Soto crossed the moiiRtains was within the 35th 
degree of ]a,titude. In Delisle's map, a village called 
Canasaga, is laid down on theN. W. side of the Al- 
legany, (or as it is sometimes called) the Apalachian 
ridge of mountains, in that latitude ; and Chiaha is 
said in Soto's journal to be five days westward from 
Canasaga. 

To ascertain the situation of Chiaha, we must ob- 
serve, that it is subject to the Lord of Cosa, which is 
situated on an eastern branch of the Mobille ; and So- 
to's sick men came down the river from Chiaha in 
boats. This river could be none but a branch of the 
Mobille, and his course was then turned toward the 
south ; in this march he passed thro' Alibama, Talise, 
Tascalusa, names which are still known und marked 
on the maps, till he came to the town of Mavilla, 
which the French pronounce Mouville and Mobille. 
It was then a walled town, but the walls were of wood. 
The inhabitants had conceived a disgust for the Spa- 
niards, which was augmented by an outrage commit- 
ted on one of their Chiefs, and finally broke out in a 
severe conflict, in which 2000 of the innocent natives 
were slain, and many of the Spaniards killed and 
wounded, and the town was burnt. This was in the 
latter end of October. 

It is probable that Soto intended to pass the winter 
in the neighbourhood of that village, if he could have 
kept on friendly terms with the Indians ; for there he 
could have had a communication with Cuba. There 
he heard that the vessels which he had sent to Cuba 
for supplies were arrived at Ochus [Pensacola] where 
he had agreed to meet them; but he kept this infor- 
mation secret, because he had not yet made any disco- 
veries which his Spanish friends would think worthy of 
regard. The country about him was populous but 
hostile, and, being void of gold or silver, was not aii 
object for him to possess at the risque of losing his ar- 
my, of which above 100 had already perished. He 

there- 



46 SOTO. \ 

therefore, after staying 28 clays for the recovery of 
his wounded men, determined on a retreat. 

In this retreat it has been supposed that he penetrat- 
ed northward, beyond the Ohio. The truth is, that he 
began his march from Mavilla, a village near the 
mouth of the Mobille, on the 18th of November, 
and on the 17th of December arrived at Chicaca, an 
Indian village of twenty houses, where they remained 
till the next April. 

The distance, the time, the nature of the country, 
the course and manner of the march, and the name of 
the village, all concur to determine this winter station 
of Soto to be a village of the Chickesaw Indians, situ- 
ated on the upper part of the Yasou, a branch of the 
Mississippi, about eighty leagues northwestward from 
Mobille, and not less than 140 leagues, southwestward 
from the Muskingnm, where are found the fortifica- 
tions, the cause of so many conjectures. From Chi- 
caca, in the spring, he went westward, and crossed a 
river within the 34th degree of latitude, which he 
called Rio Grande, and which is now known to be 
the Mississippi. 

On the western side of the Mississippi, after ram- 
bling all the summer, he spent the next winter at a 
place called Autiamque, where he enclosed his camp 
with a wall of timber, the work of three days only. 
Within this enclosure he lodged safely during three 
months ; and, in the succeeding spring, the extreme 
fatig-ieand anxiety which he had suffered, threw him 
into a fever, of which he died. May 21, 1542, at 
Guacoya. To prevent his death from being known to 
the Indians, his body was sunk in the middle of a 
river. 

His Lieutenant, Louis de Moscosco, continued to 
ramble on the western side of the Mississippi, till the 
next summer; w^hen worn with fatigue, disappoint- 
ment, and loss of men, he built seven boats, called 
hrigantines, on the Mississippi, in which the shatter- 
ed remnants consisting of 311, returned to Cuba, in 
September 1543, 



( 47 ) 



WALTER RALEIGH, &c. 

THE distinguished figure which the life of Sir 
Walter Raleigh makes in the history of Eng- 
land, renders unnecessary any other account of him 
here, than what respects his adventures in America, 
and particularly in Virginia, of which colony he is ac- 
knowledged to have been the unfortunate founder. 

He A^'as half brother, by the mother's side, to Sir 
Humphrey Gilbert,* and was at the expence of fitting 
out one of the ships of his squadron. Notwithstand- 
ing the unhappy fate of his brotlier, he persisted in his 
design ol making a settlement in America. Being a 
favourite in the court of Queen Elizabeth, he obtained 
a patent, bearing date the 25th of March 1584, for the 
discovering and planting of any lands and countries, 
which were not possessed by any Christiari prince or 
nation. 

About the same time, the Queen granted him ano- 
ther patent, to Hcense the vending of wine throughout 
the kingdom ; that by the profits thence arising, he 
might be able to bear the expense of his intended plan 
of colonization. Further to strengthen his interest, he 
engaged the assistance of two wealthy kinsmen. Sir 
Richard Grenville and William Sanderson. They pro- 
vided two barks, and having well furnished them with 
men and provisions, put them under the command of 
Philip Amadas and Arthur Barlow, who sailed from 
the west of England, April 27, 1584. 

They took the usual route by the way of the Cana- 
ries and the Westlndies ; the reason of which is thus 
expressed in the account of this voyage written by 
Barlow, " because we doubted that the current of the 
bay of Mexico between the cape of Florida and tla- 
vannah, had been of greater force than wc aftenvards 
found it to be." 

* An imfortunate adventurer to Newfoundland. 



48 RALEIGH. 

Taking advantage of the Gulf stream, they ap- 
proached the coast of Florida, and on the 2d of July 
came into shoal water, wliere the odoriferous smell of 
flowers indicated the land to be near, though not within 
sight. On the 4th they saw land, along which they 
sailed 50 leagues before they found an entrance. At 
the iirst opening, thty cast anchor (July 13) and hav- 
ing devoutly given thanks to God, for their safe arrival 
on the coast, they went ashore in their boats, and took 
possession in the name of Queen Elizabeth. 

The place where they landed was a sandy island, 
called Wococon,* about 16 miles in length and 6 in 
breadth, full of cedars, pines, cypress, sassafras and 
other trees, among which were many vines loaded with 
grapes. In the woods they found deer and hares, and 
in the waters and marshes, various kinds of fowl ; but 
no human creature was seen till the third day, when a 
canoe, with three men, came along by the shore. One 
of them landed, and, without any fear or precaution, 
niet the Europeans, and addressed them in a friendly 
manner, in his own language. They carried him on 
board one of their vessels, gave him a shirt and some 
other trifles, and regaled him with meat and wine. 
He then returned to his canoe, and with his compani- 
ons went a fishing. When the canoe was filled, they 
brought the iish on shore, and divided them into two 
] leaps, making signs, that each of the vessels should 
take one. 

The next day, several canoes came, in Avhich were 
40 or 50 people, and among them was Granganimeo, 
brother of Wingina, king of the country, who was con- 
fmed at home by the wounds which he had received in 
battle with a neigiibouring prince. The manner of 
bis approach was fearless and respectful. He left his 
boats at a distance, and came along the shore, accom- 
panied by ail his people, till he was abreast of the 
ships. Then advancing with 4 men only, who spread 
a mat on the ground, he sat down on one end, and the 

4 men 

* This illand is fuppofed to be one of thofe which lie at: 
the moiith of Albemarle Sound, on the coall of N.Carolina, 



RALEIGH. 49^ 

4 men on the other. When the English M-ent on 
shore, armed, he beckoned to them to come and sit 
by him, which they did, and he made signs of joy and 
friendship, striking with his hand on his head and 
breast, and then on theirs, to sliew that they were all 
one. None of his people spoke a word ; and when 
the English offered them presents, he took them all 
into his own possession, making signs that they were 
his servants, and that all which they had belonged to 
him. 

After this interview, the natives came in great num- 
bers, and brought skins, coral, and materials for dyes; 
but when Granganimeo was present, none were per- 
mitted to trade, but himself and those who had a piece 
of copper on their heads. Nothing pleased him so 
much as a tin plate, in which he made a hole, and 
hungit over his breast, as a piece of defensive armour. 
He supplied them every day with venison, fish and 
fruits ; and invited them to visit him at his village, on 
the north end of an island called Roanoke. 

This village consisted of nine houses, built of cedar, 
and fortified with sharp palisades. When the English 
arrived there in their boat, Granganimeo was absent ; 
but his wife entertained them with the kindest hospi- 
tality,washed their feet and their clothes, ordere€l their 
boat to 1)6 drawn ashore and their oars to be secured, 
and then feasted them with venison, fish, fruits and 
homony. AVhilst they were at supper, some of lier 
men came in from hunting, with their bows and ar- 
rows in their hands, on which her guests began to 
mistrust danger ; but she ordered their bows to be tak- 
en from them, and their arrows to be broken, and then 
turned them out at the gate. The English, however, 
thought it most prudent to pass the night in their 
boat, which they launched and laid at anchor. At 
tlws she was much grieved ; but Finding all her solici- 
tations ineffectual, she ordered the victuals in the pots 
to be put on board, with mats to cover the people from 
the rain ; and appointed several persons of both sexes 
t_o keep guard on the beach during the whole nighl« 

D Could 



50 RALEIGH. 

Could there be a more engaging specimen of generous 
hospitality ? 

These people are characterized as " gentle, loving 
and faithful ; void of guile and treachery ; living after 
the manner of the golden age ; caring only to feed 
themselves with such food as the soil aiiordeth, and to 
defend themselves from the cold in their short winter." 

No farther discovery was made of the country by 
these adventurers. From the natives they obtained 
some uncertain account of its geography, and of a 
ship which had been wrecked on the coast between 20 
and 30 years before. They carried away two of the 
natives, Wanchese and Manteo, and arrived in the 
west of England about the middle of September. 

The account of this discovery was so welcome to 
Queen Elizabeth, that she named the country TzV- 
ginia^ either in memoryof her own virginity, or be- 
cause it retained its virgin purity, and the people their 
primitive simplicity. 

About this time, Raleigh was elected knight of the, 
shire for his native county of Devon ; and in the par- 
liament which was held in the succeeding winter, he 
caused a bill to be brought into the House of Com- 
mons to confirm his patent for the discovery of fo- 
reign couiUries. After much debate, the bill was car- 
ried thro' both houses, and received the royal assent. 
In addition to which, the Queen conferred on him the 
order of Knighthood. 

A second expedition being resolved on. Sir Richard 
Grenville himself took the command, and with seven 
vessels, large and small, sailed from Plymouth, on the 
9th of April, 1585, They went in the usual course 
by the Canaries and the West Indies, where they took 
two Spanish prizes ; and after having narrowly escaped 
shipwreck on Cape Fear, arrived at Wococon the 26th 
of June. 

The natives came, as before, to bid them welcome, 
and to trade with them. Manteo, whom they had 
brought back, proved a faithful guide, and piloted them 
about from place to place. In an excursion of 8 days 

with 



RALEIGH. /ri 



D 



with their boats, they visited several Indian villages on 
the islands and on the main, adjoining to Albemarle 
Sound. At one place, called Aquascogoc, an Indian 
stole from them a silver cup. Inquiry being made, 
the offender was detected, and promised to restore it ; 
but the promise not being speedily performed, a hasty 
and severe revenge was taken, by the orders of Gren- 
ville ; tlie town was burnt, and the corn destroyed in 
the fields, (July 16) whilst the affrighted people fled to 
the woods for safety. From this ill-judged act of vio- 
lence, may be dated the misfortunes and failure of this 
colony. 

Leaving 108 persons to attempt a settlement, Gren- 
ville proceeded with his fleet to the island of Hatteras, 
where he received a visit from Granganimeo, and then 
sailed for England. On the 1 8th of September he ar- 
rived at Plymouth, with a rich Spanish prize which he 
had taken on the passage. 

Of the colony left in Virginia, Ralph Lane was ap- 
pointed Governor. He was a military man, of consi- 
derable reputation in the sea-service. Philip Amadas, 
who had commanded in the first voyage, was Admiral. 
They chose the island of Roanoke, in the moutli of 
Albemarle Sound, as the place of their residence; and 
their chief employment was to explore and survey the 
country, and describe the persons and manners of its 
inhabitants. For these purposes, Sir Walter Raleigh 
had sent John Withe, an ingenious painter, and Tho- 
mas Heriot, a skilful mathematician, and a man of cu- 
rious ol)servation ; both of whom perfoj'ined their parts 
with fidelity and success. 

The farthest discovery which they made to the 
'southward of Roanoke was Secotan, an Indian town, 
between the rivers of Pamptico and N'eus, distant 80 
leagues. To the nortliward they went about 40 leagues, 
to a nation called Chesepeags, on a small river, nov/ 
called Elizabeth, which falls into Chesepeag Bay, be- 
low Norfolk. To the westward, they went up Albe- 
marle Sound and Chowan river, about 40 leagues, to a 
nation called Chowanogs, whose King, JMenatonona, 

a- 



51 RALEIGH. 

amused them with a story of a copper mine unci a pearF 
fishery, in search of which they spent much time, and 
so exhausted their provisions, that they were glad to 
eat their dogs befoie they returned to Roanoke. 

During this excursion, their friend Granganimco 
died, and his brother Wingina discovered his hostile 
disposition toward the colony. The return of Mr. 
Lane and his party, from their excursion, gave a check 
to his malice for a while ; but he secretly laid a plot 
for their destruction, which being betrayed to the Eng- 
glish, they seized all the boats on the island. This 
brought on a skirmish, in which five or six Indians 
were killed, and the rest fled to the woods. After 
much jealousy and dissimulation on both sides, Win- 
gina was drawn into a snare, and with eight of his 
men', fell a sacrifice to the resentment of the English. 

In a few days after Wingina's death. Sir Francis 
Drake, who had been cruising against the Spaniards 
in the West Indies, and had received orders from the 
Queen to visit this colony, ai'rived with his fleet on the 
coast, and, by the mianinious desire of the people, 
took them all ofi*, and cari-icd them to England, where 
they arrived in July 1586* 

Within a fortnight after the departureof this unfor- 
tunate colony, Sir Richard Grenville arrived with three 
ships for their relief. Finding their habitation aban- 
doned, and being unable to gain any intelligence of 
them, he landed 50 men on the islarid of Roanoke, 
plentifully supplied with provisions for two years, and 
then returned to England. 

The next year (1587), three ships were sent, under 
the command of John White, who was appointed Go- 
vernor of the colonV) with 12 Counsellors. To them 
llaleigh gave a charter of incorporation for the city of 
Raleigh, which he ordered them to build on the river 
Chesepeag, the northern extent of the discovery. Af- 
ter narrowly escaping shipwreck on Cape Fear, they 
arrived at Hatteras, on the 22d of July, and sent a par- 
ty to Roanoke to look for the second colony of 50 men* 
They found no person living, and the bones of but one 

dead 



RALEIGH. 53 

*\leacl. The huts were standing, but were overgrown 
with bushes and weeds. In conversation with some of 
the natives, they were informed, that the colony had 
been destroyed by Wingina's people, in revenge of 
his death. 

iMr. White endeavoured to renew a friendly inter- 
course witli those natives, but their jealousy rendered 
them implacable. He, therefore, went across the wa- 
ter to the main, with a party of 25 men, and came 
suddenly on a company of friendly Indians, who were 
seated round a fire, one of whom they killed before 
they discovered the mistake. 

Two remarkable events are mentioned as happening 
at this tiine : one was the baptism of Manteo, the 
faithful Indian guide ; the other was the birth of a fe- 
male child, daughter of Ananias Dare, one of the Coun- 
cil, which, being the first child born in the colony, 
was named Virginia, 

By this time (x\ugust 21), the ships had unloaded 
their stores, and were preparing to return to England. 
It was evident tliat a farther supply was necessary, and 
that some person must go home to solicit it. A dis- 
pute arose in the Council on this point ; and, after 
much altercation, it was determined, that the Govern- 
or was the most proper person to be sent on this er- 
rand. The whole colony joined in requesting him to 
proceed, promising to take care of his interest in his 
absence. With much rehictance he consented, on 
their subscribing a testimor.ial of his un^^illingness to 
quit the plantation. He accordingly sailed on the 27th 
of August, and arrived in England the following No- 
vember. The nation was in a state of alarm and ap- 
prehension on account of the war with Spain, and of 
the Invincible Armada^ which had threatened it with 
an invasion. Sir Walter Raleigh was one of the 
Queen's Council of War, as were also Sir Richard 
Crenville and Mr. Lane. Their time was wJioUy tak- 
en up with public consultations, and Governor White 
nas obliged to wait, till the plan of operations against 
the enemy could be adjusted and carried into execu^ 
lion. . The 



54 HALEIGK. 

The next spring, Raleigh and Grenville, who had 
the eommand of the militia in Cornwall, and were 
training them ior tlie defence of the kingdom, being 
strongly solicited by White, provided two sn\all barks, 
whicli sailed from.Biddeford on the 22d of April 1588. 
These Vessels had commissions as ships of war, and 
being more intent on gain to themselves, than relief 
to the colony, went in chace of prizes, and were both 
driven back by ships of superior force, to the great 
mortificulion of their patron, and the ruin of his colony. 

These disapj)ointments were a source of vexation to 
Raleigh. He had expended 40,000/. of his own and 
other mens' money, in pursuit of his favourite object, 
;tnd his gains were yat to^come. He therefore made 
an assignment of his patent (^March 7, 1589) to Tho- 
mas Smith, and other merchants and adventurers, 
among whom was Governor White, with a donation of 
100/. for the propagation of the Christian religion in 
Virginia. Being thus disengaged from the business 
of colonization, he had full scope for his martial geni- 
us in the war with Spain. 

His assignees Avere not so zealous in the prosecu- 
tion of their business. It was not till the spring of 
1590, that Governor White could return to hjs colony. 
Then, with three ships, he sailed from Plymouth, and 
passing through the West Indies, in quest of Spanish 
prizes, he arrived at Hatteras, on the 15th of August. 
From this place, they observed a smoke arising on the 
island of Roanoke, which gave them some hope that 
the colony was there subsisting. On their coming to 
the place, they found old trees and grass burning, but 
no human being. On a post of one of the houses, 
they saw the word Croataii^ which gave them some 
hope that, at the island of that name, they should find 
their friends. They sailed for that island, which lay 
southward of Hatteras ; but a violent storm aiising, 
hi which they lost their anchors, they were obliged to 
quit the inhospitable coast, and return home; nor 
was any thing afterward heard of the unfortunate co- 
lony. 

The 



RALEIGH. ss 

The next year (1591), Sir Richard Grenville was 
itiortally wounded in an engagement with a Spanish 
fleet, and died on board the Admiral's ship, where he 
was prisoner. 

Kaleigh, tho* disengaged from the business of colo- 
nizing Virginia, sent five times, at his own expence, 
to seek for, and relieve, his friends ; but the persons 
whom he employed} having more profitable business 
in the West Indies, either went not to the place, or 
were forced from it by stress of weather, it being a 
tempestuous region, and without any safe harbour. 
The last attempt which he made, was in 1602, the 
year before his imprisonment; an event which grati- 
fied the malice of his enemies, and prepared the way 
for his death, which was much less ignominious to 
him than to his sovereign, King James I. the British 
Solotnon, successor to Elizabeth, the Britifjh DcborahJ* 

This unfortunate attempt to settle a colony in Vir- 
ginia, was productive of one thing which will render 
it memorable, the introduction of tobacco into England . 
Cartier, in his visit to Canada, fifty years before, had 
observed that the natives used this weed in fumigation, 
but it was an object of disgust to Frenchmen. Ralph 
Lane, at his return in 1586, brought it first into Eu- 
rope ; and Raleigh, who was a man of gaiety and 
fashion, not only learned the use of it himself, but 
introduced it into the polite circles ; and even the 
Queen herself gave encouragement to it. Some hu- 
mourous stories respecting it are still remembered. 
Raleigh laid a wager with the Queen, that he would 
determine exactly the weight of smoke which issued 
from his pipe. This he did by first weighing the to- 
bacco 

• The following fpecimen of the language of thofe times, 
and the fulfomenefs of the adulation, mull be amufing to the 
reader : — •' He (/. e. King James) is beyond comparifon a 
meer tranfcendant, beyond all his predeceiTors Princes of this 
Realm ; beyond the neighbouring Princes of his own time ; 
beyond the conceit of lubjefts dazzled with fo much bright- 
nefs ; beyond our victorious Deborah, not in fex alone, but as 
peace is more excellent than war, and Solomon than David ; 
in this alfo that he w, and we enjoy his prefent fuulhiue.'* 



56 RALEIGH. 

bacco and then the ushes. When the Queen paic! 
the Ava^er, she pleasantly observed, that many labour- 
ers had t\u'ned their gold into smoke, but that he 
was tiie first who had converted smoke into gold. 

It is also related that a servant of Sir Walter, bring- 
ing a tankard of ale into his stt^dy as he "vvas smoaking 
his pipe, and i-eading, was so alarped at the apppear- 
ance of smoke issuing out of his mouth, that he threw 
the ale into his face, and ran down to alarm the fami- 
ly, crying out that his master was on fire. 

King James had so rcf.ncd a taste, that he not only 
held this Indian w^eed hi great abhorrence himself, but 
endeavoured, by proclumalions and otherwise, to pre- 
vent the use of it among his subjects. But all his 
zeal and authority could not suppress it. Since his 
time, it has become an important article of commerce 
to both Americans and FAU-opeaiij; 



!;:>• 



JOHN SMITH. 

THOUGH the early part of the life of this extra- 
ordinary man was spent in foreign travels and 
adventures which have no reference to America, yet 
the incidents of that period so strongly mark his cha- 
lacter, and give such a tincture to his subsequent ac- 
tions, and are withal so singular in themselves, that a 
short account of them must be amusing to the reader. 
He was born at Willoughby, in Lincolnshire, in 
in the year 1579. From the first dawn of reason, 
he discovered a roving and romantic genius, and de- 
lighted in extravagant and daring actions among his 
school fellows. When about 13 years of age, he 
sold his books and satchel, and his puerile trinkets, 
to raise money, with a view to con^ey himself pri- 
vately to sea; but tlie death of his father put a stop 
for the present to this attempt, and threw him into the 

hands 



/ 



SIVIITH. 57 

hands of guardians, who endeavoured to check the ar- 
dour of his {jjenius, by confiniiit^ him to a comptinj^ 
house. Beinj^ put apprentice to a merchant at Lynn, 
at the ag-e of 15, he at fast conceived hopes that liis 
master would send him to sea in his service, but this 
hope fiiilinij, he quitted his master, and with only ten 
shiliinj^s in his pocket, entered into the train of a 
young- nobleman who was travelling to France. At 
Orleans he was discharged from his attendance on 
Lord Bertie, and had money given him to return to 
P^ngland. With this money he visited Paiis, and 
proceeded to the Low Countries, wliere he enlisted as 
a soldier and learned the rudiments of war, a science 
peculiarly agreeable to his ardent and active genius. 
.Meeting with a Scotch gentleman abroad, he was per- 
suaded to pass into Scotland, with the promise of be- 
ing strongly recommended to King James ; but being 
batiled in this expectation, he returned to his native 
town, and finding no company there which suited his 
taste, he built a booth in a w^ood, and betook himself 
to the study of military history and tactics, diverling 
himself at intervals with his horse and lance ; in 
which exercise he at length found a companion an 
Italian gentleman, who drew him fi'om his sylvan re- 
tirement to Tattersal. 

Having recovered a part of the estate which his fa- 
ther had left him, he put himself into a better condi- 
tion than before, and set ou again on his travels, in 
the winter of the year 1596, being then only 17 years 
of age. His first stage was Flanders, where meeting ' 
with a Frenchman, who pretended to be heir to a no- 
ble family, he, with his three attendants, prevailed 
npon Smith to go with them to France. In a dark 
night, they arrived at St. V^alcry, in Picardy, and, by 
the connivance of the ship master, the Frenchmen 
were carried ashore with the trunks of our young tra- 
veller, whilst he vv^as left on board till the return of the 
boat. In the mean time, they had conveyed the bag- 
gage out of his reach, and were not to be found. A 
sailor on board, who knew the villains, generously 

D 2 uu- 



ji 



53 SMITH. 

undertook to conduct him to Mortainc, where they 
lived, and supplied his wants till their arrival at the 
place. Here he found their friends, from whom he 
could gain no recompence ; but the report of his suf- 
ferings induced several persons of distinction to invite 
him to their houses. 

Eager to pursue his travels, and not caring to re- 
ceive favours which he was unable to requite, he left 
his new friends, and went from port to port in search 
of a ship of war. In one of these rambles, near Di- 
nan, it was his chance to meet one of the villains who 
had robbed him. Without speaking a word, they both 
drew, and Smith, having wounded and disarmed his 
antagonist, obliged him to confess his guilt before a 
number of persons who had assembled on the occasi- 
on. Satisfied with his victory, he retired to the seat 
of an acquaintance, the earl of Ployer, who had been 
brought up in England, and having received supplies 
from him, he travelled along the French coast lo Ba- 
yonne, and from thence crossed over to Marseilles, vi- 
siting and observing every thing in his way which had 
any reference to naval or militaiy architecture. 

At Marseilles he embarked for Italy, in company 
with a number of pilgrims. The ship was forced by a 
tempest into the harbour of Toulon, and afterward was 
obliged by a contrary wind to anchor under the little 
island of St. Mary, off Nice in Savoy. The bigotry 
of the pilgrims made them ascribe their ill fortune to 
the prssence of a heretic on board ! — They devoutly 
cursed Smith and his Qiieen Elizabeth, and in a fit of 
pious rage threw him into the sea. He swam to the 
island, and the next day was taken on board a ship of 
St. Malo, which had also put in there for shelter. The 
master of the ship, who was well known to his noble 
friend the earl of Ployer, entertained him kindly, and 
carried him to Alexandria, in Egypt ; from thence he 
coasted the Levant, and on his return had the high 
r/atisfaction of a naval engagement with a Venetian 
ship, which they took, and riiled of her rich cargo. 
Sjiiith was set on shore (\tAntibes, with a box of lOOQ 



SMITH. 59 

chequins (about 2000 dollars), by the help of which 
he made the tour of Italy, crossed the Adriatic, and 
travelled into Stiria, to the seat of Ferdinand, Arch- 
duke of Austria. Here he met with an English and 
an Irish Jesuit, who introduced him to lord Eber- 
spaught, baron Kizel and other officers of distinction ; 
and here he found full scope for his genius, for the 
emperor being then at war with the Turks, he enter- 
ed into his army as a volunteer. 

He had commuicated to Eberspaught a method of 
conversing at a distance, by signals made with torch- 
es, which being alternately shewn and hidden a cer- 
tain number of times, designated every letter of the 
alphabet. He had soon after an opportunity of mak- 
ing the experiment. Eberspaught being besieged by 
the Turks in the strong town of Olimpach, was cut oti' 
from all intelligence and hope of succour from his 
friends. Smith proposed his method of communica- 
tion to baron Kizel, who approved it, and allowed him 
to put it in practice.* He was conveyed by a guard, 
to a hill within view of the town, and sufficienlly re- 
mote from the Turkish camp. At the display of the 
signal, Eberspaught knew and answered it, and Smith 
conveyed to him this intelligence, " Thursday night, 
I will charge on the east ; at the alarm sally thou." 
The answer was, " I will." Just before the attack, by 
Smith's advice, a great number of false fires were 

made 

* The method was this:— Firft, three torches are fliewn in 
a line equi-diftant from each other, which are anfwered by 
three others in the tame manner. Then tlie mefiac^e being 
written as briefly as poflible, and the alphabet divided into 
two parts, the letters from A to L are fignified by fliewing 
and hiding one light, as often as there are letters from A to 
that letter which you mean. The letters froni M to 7. by two 
lights in the fame manner. The end of a word is fignified by 
(hewing three lights. At every letter, the light {lands till th.e 
other party writes it and anfwers by his fignal, which is one 
light. — [From hence we may ])erceive the tirfl idea of what 
is now called the Telegrapbe, and from which the faccoeding 
improvem'^nt was not fo wonderful a difcoverv, cr invention^ 
as has been imagined] 



(>o SMITH. 

made on another quarter, which divided the attention 
of the enemy, and gave advantage to the assailants, 
■who, being assisted by a sally from the town, killed 
jr.any of che Tm'ks, drove others into the river, and 
threw succours into the place, which obliged the ene- 
my the next day to raise the siege. This well-con- 
ducted exploit produced to our young adventurer the 
command of a company, consisting of 250 horsemen, 
in the regiment of count Meldrick, a nobleman of 
Transylvania. 

The regiment in which he served being engaged in 
several hazardous enterprizes, Smith was foremost iii 
all dangers, and distinguished himself both by his in- 
genuity and by his valour; and when Meldrick left 
the Imperial army, and passed into the service of his 
his native prince, Smith followed him. 

At the siege of Regal, the Ottomans derided the 
slow approaches of the Transylvanian army, and sent 
a challenge, purporting that the Lord Turbisha, to 
divert the ladies, would fight any single Captain of the 
Christian troops. 

The honour of accepting this challenge, being de- 
termined by lot, fell on Captain Smith ; who, meet- 
ing his antagonist on horseback, within view of the 
ladies on the battlements, at the sound of music, be- 
gan the encounter, and in a short time killed him, 
and bore away his head in triumph to his general the 
l>ord Moyzes. 

The death of the chief so irritated his friend Gru- 
algo, that he sent a particular challenge to the con- 
queror, who, meeting him with the same ceremonies, 
after a smart combat, took of his head also. Smith 
T-hcn in his turn sent a message into the town, inform- 
ing tJie ladies, that if they wished for more diversion, 
I hey should be welcome to his head, in case their 
third Champion could take it. This challenge was 
accepted by Bonamolgro, who unhorsed Smith and 
was near gaining the victory — liut remounting in a 
rriiical moment, he gave the Turk a stroke with his 
Lulchion Y^'hich brought him to the gorotuid, and his 

h cad 



SMITH. 6^ 

head was added to the number. For these singular 
expoits he was honoured with a military procession, 
consisting of six thousand men, three led horses, and 
the Turks' heads on the point of three hmces. With 
this ceremony Sn\ith was conducted to the pavilion 
of his general, who, alter embracing him, presented 
him with a horse richly furnished, ^ scymilar and 
belt worth 300 ducats, and a commission to be major in 
his regiment. ThePrinceof Transylvania,after the cap- 
ture of the place, made him a present of his picture set 
in gold, and a pension of 300 ducats per annum, and 
morover granted him a coat of arms bearing three 
Turks' heads m a shield. The patent was admitted 
and recorded in the college of Heralds in England, by 
Sir Henry Segar, garter king at arms. Smith was 
always proud of this distinguishing honour, and these 
arms are accordingly blazoned in the frontispiece to 
his history, with tiiis motto, 

" Vbicere eat vivere." 

After this, the Transylvanian army was defeated 
by a body of Turks and Tartars near Rotenton, and 
many brave men v/ere slain, among whom were nine 
English and Scots oincers, who, after the fashion of 
that day, had entered into this service, from a relig-i- 
ous zeal to drive tiie T\irks out of Christendom. 
Smith was wounded in this battle, and lay among the 
dead. His habit discovered him to the victors as a 
person of conse(]urnce ; tliey used him well till his 
wounds were healed, and then sold him to the Basha 
Bogal, who sent him as a present to his mistress^ 7ra- 
gabigzanda at Constantinople, accompanied with a mes- 
sage as fail of vanity as void of truth, that he had con- 
quered in battle a l^ohemian nobleman, and presented 
jiim to her as a slave. 

The present proved more acceptable to the lady 
than her lord intended. She could speak Italian, and 
Smith, in that language, not only informed her of his 
country and quality, but conversed with her in so pleas- 
ing a manner, as to gain her affections. The con- 
nexion proved so tender, that, to secure him for her- 
self 



62 SMITH. 

self, and to prevent his beinj? ill used or sold again' 
she sent him to her brother the Basha of Nalbraitz* 
in the country of the Cambrian Tartars, on the bor- 
ders of the sea of Asoph. Her pretence was, that he 
should there learn the manners and language, as well 
as religion of the Tartars. By the terms in which slie 
wrote to her brother, he suspected her design, and re- 
solved to disappoint her. Within an hour after 
Smith's arrival, he was stripped, his head and beard 
were shaven, an iron collar was put about his neck, 
he was clothed with a coat of hair-cloth, and driven 
to labour among other Christian slaves. He had now 
no hope of redemption, but from the love of his mis- 
tress, who was at a great distance, and not likely to 
he informed of his misfortune ; the hopeless condition 
of his fellow-slaves could not alleviate his despondency. 
In the depth of his distress, an opportunity present- 
ed for an escape, which to a person of a less courage- 
ous and adventurous spirit, w ould have proved an ag- 
gravation of misery. He was employed in threshing, 
at a grange, in a large field, about a league from the 
house of his tyrant, who, in his daily visits, treated 
him with abusive language, accompanied with blows 
and kicks. This was more than Smith could bear ; 
wherefore, watching an opportunity, when no otlier 
j)erson was present, lie levelled a stroke at him with 
his threshing instrument, which dispatched him. Then, 
liidinj>; his body in the straw, wid shutting the doors, 
Jie filled a bag with grain, mounted theBasha's horse, 
and betaking himself to the depart, \> andered for two 
or three days, ignorant of the way, and so fortunate 
as not to meet with a single person wiio might give 
information of his Uighl. At length he came to a post 
erected in a cross-road, by the marks on which he 
found the way to iNTuscovy, and in 16 days arrived at 
Exapoli?, on the river Don, where was a Russian gar- 
rison, the commander of which, understanding that 
he was a Christian, received l)im courteously, took oft* 
his iron collar, and gave him letters to tlie other go- 
vernors in that region. Thus he travelled through 

part 



SMITH. 63 

part of Russia and Poland, till he got back to his 
friends in Transylvania, receiving presents in iiis way 
from many persons of distinction, among whom he 
mentions a charitable lady, Callamata, being always 
proud of his connexion with that sex, and ibnd of ac- 
knowledging their favours. At Leipsic he met with 
his colonel, count Meldrick, and Sigismund, prince 
of Transylvania, who gave him 1500 ducats to repair 
his losses. With this money, he was enabled to tra- 
vel thro' Germany, France, and Spain, and having 
visited the kingdom of Morocco, he returned by sea 
to England, having in his passage enjoyed the plea- 
sure of another naval engagement. At his arrival in 
his native country, he had 1000 ducats in his purse, 
Vhicb, with the interest he liad remaining in Eng- 
land, he devoted to seek adventures and make disco- 
veries in North America. 

Bartholomew Gosnold having conceived a favoura- 
ble idea of America, had made it his business, on his 
return to England, to solicit assistance in prosecuting 
discoveries. Meeting with Captain Smith, he readily 
entered into his views, the employment being exactly- 
suited to his enterprizing genius. Having engaged 
Edward Maria WingPicld, a merchant, Robert Hunt, 
a clergyman, and several others, they prevailed upon 
a number of noblemen, gentlemen, and merchants, to 
solicit a patent from the Crown, by which the adven- 
turers to Vii-ginia became sul)jcct to legal direction, 
and had the support and encouragement of a weallliy 
and respectable corporation, which was usually styled 
the South Virginia Company or the London Coni- 
])any, in distinction from the Plymouth Company, who 
superintended the aflairs of North Virginia. The 
date of their patent was April 10, 1G06, and on the 
19th of ihe following December, three ships, one of 
100 tons, another of 40, and one of 20, fell down the 
river Thames for Virginia. The commander was 
Christopher Newport, an experienced mariner. They 
had on board the necessary persons and provisions for 
9. colony, and their orders for government were sealed 

iu 



64 SMITH. 

in a box, which was not to be opened till they should 
arrive in Virginia. 

The sliips were kept in the Downs, by bad weather, 
six weeks, and af-erwards had a tempestuous voyage. 
They took the old route by the Canary and Caribbee 
islands, and did not make the entrance of Chesapeak 
Bay till the 26th of April 1607. From the beginning 
of their embarkation, there was a jealousy and dis- 
sension among the company. Smith and Hunt were 
friends, and both were envied and suspected by the 
others. Hunt was judicious and patient, and his office 
secured him from insult. Smith was ardent and in- 
dustrious, courteous in his deportment, but liberal in 
his language. On some suggestions that he intended 
to usui-p the government, and that his confederates 
were dispersed among the companies of each ship, he 
was made a prisoner, from the time of their leaving 
the Canaries, and was under confinenisnt when they 
arrived in the Chesapeak. When the box v/as open- 
ed, it was found that Bartholomew Gosnold, John 
Smith, Edward M. V/ingneld, Christopher Newport, 
John RatclifT, John Martin, and George Kendal were 
named to be of the Council, who were to chuse a pre- 
sident from among themselves, for one year, and the 
government was vested in them. Matters of moment 
were to be " examined by a jury, but determined by 
the major part of the Co\incil, in which tiie president 
had two voices." When the Council was sworn, Wing- 
iield was chosen president, and a declaration Avas mad;^ 
of the reasons for which Smith was not admitted and 
sworn among the others. 

Seventeen days from their arrival were spent in 
seeking a proper place for their nrst plantation. The 
southern point of the bay was named Cape Henry, 
and the northern Cape Charles, in honour of the two 
sons of King James. To the first great river which 
they discovered they gave the name of their sovereign, 
and the northern point of its entrance was called Point 
Comfort, on account of the good channel and anchor- 
age which they foimd th-ere. On the Hats, they took 

plenty 



SMITH. 6^ 

•plenty of oysters, in some of which were pearls; and 
on the plain, they found lart^e and ripe strawberries, 
which afforded them a delicious repast. 

Having met with five of the natives, they invited 
them to their town, Kecoughtan, where Hampton is 
now built. Here they were feasted with cakes made 
of Indian corn, and regaled with tobacco and a dance ; 
in return, they presented the natives beads and other 
trinkets. Proceeding up the river, another company 
of Indians appeared in arms. Their chief, Apamati- 
ca, holding in one hand his bow and arrow, and in the 
other a pipe of tobacco, demanded the cause of their 
coming ; they made signs of peace, and were hospi- 
tably received. On the 13th of May, they pitched 
upon a peninsula where the ships could lie in six fa- 
thom water, moored to the trees, as the place of their 
intended settlement. Here they were visited by Pas- 
piha, another Indian chief, who being made acquaint- 
ed with their design, offered them as much land as 
they wanted, and afterward sent them a deer for their 
entertainment. On this spot they pitched their tents, 
and gave it the name of James-town. 

Every man was now employed either in digging 
and planting gardens, or making nets, or in cutting 
and riving timber to relade the ships. The president 
at first would admit of no martial exercise, nor allow 
any fortifications to be made, excepting the boughs of 
trees thrown together in the form of a half-moon. 
Captain Newport took Smith and 20 more with him, 
to discover the head of James-river. In six days they 
arrived at the falls, and erecting a cross, as they had 
at Cape Henry, took possession of the country in the 
name of King James. In this route, they visited 
Powhatan^ the principal Indian chief, or Emperor. 
His town consisted of twelve houses, pleasantly situ- 
ated on a hill, before which were three islands, a lit- 
tle below where Richmond is now built. Captain 
Newport presented a hatchet to this prince, which he 
gratefidly received, and when some of his Indians 
inurmurcd at the coming of the English among them, 

he 



66 SMITH. 

he silenced them by saying, " why should we be of- 
fended ? they want only a little ground which we can 
easily spare." This appearance of friendship was not 
much relied on, when, at their return to Jimes-tovvn, 
they found that the company had been surprised at 
their work by a party of Indians, who had killed one, 
and wounded 17 others. A double-headed shot from 
one of the ships had cut olT a bough of a tree, which 
falling among the Indians, terrified and dispersed 
them. This incident obliged the president to alter the 
plan of the fort, which was now a triangular palisade, 
with a lunette at each angle ; and 5 pieces of artillery 
were mounted on the works, which were completed 
by the 15th of June. It was also found necessary to 
exercise the men at arms, to mount guard, and be 
vigilajit, for the Indians would surprise and molest 
stragglers, whilst, by their superior agility, they would 
escape unhvu t. 

The ships being almost ready to return, it was 
thought proper that some decision should be had re- 
specting the allegations against Smith. His accusers 
affected commiseration, and pretended to refer him to 
the censure of the Company in England, rather than 
expose him to a legal prosecution, which might injure 
his reputation or touch his life. Smith, who knew 
both their malice and their impotence, openly scorned 
their pretended pity, and defied their resentment. He 
had conducted himself so unexceptionably in every 
employment which had been allotted to him, that he 
had rendered himself very popular ; and his accusers 
had, by a different conduct, lost the affections and 
confidence of the people. Those who had been sub- 
orned to accuse him, acknowledged their fault, and 
discovered the secret arts which had been practised 
against him. He demanded a trial, and the issue was, 
that the President was adjudged to pay him 200/. but 
when his property was seized in part of this satisfac- 
tion, Smith generously turned it into the common 
store, for the benefit of the colony. Such an action 
could uot but increase his popularity. Many other 

dif- 



SMITH. 67 

difficulties had arisen among them, which, by the in- 
fluence of Smith, and the exhortations of Hunt, their 
chaplain, were brought to a seemingly amicable con- 
clusion. Smith was admitted to his seat in tlie Coun- 
cil, and on the next Sunday they celebrated the com- 
munion. At the same time, the Indians came in, and 
voluntarily desired peace. With tl.e good report of 
these transactions, Newport sailed for England on the 
22d of June, promising to return in 20 weeks with 
fresh supplies. 

The colony thus left in Virginia consisted of 104 
persons, in very miserable circumstances, especially 
on account of provisions, to which calamity their long 
voyage did not a little contribute, both as it consumed 
their stock, and deprived them of the opportunity of 
sowing seasonably in the spring. Whilst the ships 
remained, they could barter with the sailors for bread ; 
but, after their departure, each man's allowance was 
half a pint of damaged wheat, and as much barley, 
per day ; the river, which at the flood was salt, and at 
the ebb was muddy, afforded them their only drink ; 
it also supplied them with sturgeon and shell-fish. 
This kind of food, with their continual labour in the 
heat of summer, and their trequent watchings by 
night, in all weathers, having only the bare ground to 
lie on, with but a slight covering, produced diseases 
among them, which, by the month of September, car- 
ried off 50 persons, among whom was Captain Gos- 
nold. Those who remained were divided into three 
watches, of whom not more than five in each were ca- 
pable of duty at once. All this time, the President 
Wingheld, who had the key of the stores, monopoliz- 
ed the few refreshments which remained, and was 
meditating to desert the plantation j)rivately in the pin- 
nace, and remove to the West Indies, These things 
rendered him so hateful to the rest, that they deposed 
him, and elected RatclifFe in his room ; they also re- 
moved Kendal from his place in the Council, so that, 
by the middle of September, three members only were 
left. 

Rat- 



158 SMITH. 

Ratcliffe, being a man of no resolution nor activity, 
committed tlie management of aRairs abroad to Smith, 
in whom his confidence was not misplaced. At the 
same time, the Indians in their neighbourhood brought 
in a plentiful supply of such provisions as they had, 
which revived their drooping spirits ; and Smith, see- 
ing the necessity of exertion, to secure themselves, 
and provide for the approaching winter, partly by his 
animating speeches, but more by his example, set 
them to work in mowing and binding thatch, and in 
building and covering houses. In these exercises he 
bore a large share, and, in a short time, got a suffi- 
ciency of houses to make comfortable lodgings for aii 
the people, excepting himself. This being done, and 
the provisions which the natives had brought in being 
expended, he picked a number of the best hands, and 
embarked in a shallop which they had brought from 
England, to search the country for another supply. 

The party which accompanied Smith in this excur- 
sion, consisted of six men, well armed, but ill provi- 
ded with clothing and other necessaries. What was 
wanting in equipment was to be supplied by resolution 
and address ; and Smith's genius was equal to the at- 
tempt. They proceeded down the river to Kecough- 
tan [Hampton] where the natives, knowing the needy 
state of the colony, treated them with contempt, of- 
fering them an ear of corn in exchange for a musket, 
or a sword, and in like proportion for their scant and 
tattered gai'ments. Finding that courtesy and gentle 
treatment would not prevail, and that nothing was to 
be expected in the way of barter, and moreover pro- 
voked by their contempt, Smith ordered his boat to be 
drawn on shore and his men to fire at them. The 
a^righted natives lied to the woods, whilst the party 
searched their houses in wiiich they found plenty of 
corn ; but Smith did not permit his men to touch it, 
-expecting that the Indians would return and attack 
them. They soon appeared to the number of sixty 
or seventy, formed into a square, carrying their idol 
-4)kee^ composed of skins, stuffed with moss and adorn- 
ed 



SMITH. 6q. 

ed ^vith chains of copper. They were armed with, 
clubs and targets, bows and arrows, and advanced, 
singing to the charge. The party received them with 
a volley of shot, which brought several of them to the 
ground and their idol among them ; the rest lied again 
to the woodsjfrom whence theysent a deputation to oher 
peace and redeem their god. Smith having in his hands 
so valuable a pledge, was able to bring them to his own 
terms ; he stipulated that six of them should come un- 
armed, and load his boat with corn, and on this con- 
dition he would be their friend and give them hatch- 
ets, beads and copper. These stipulations were faith- 
fully performed on both sides ; and the Indians in ad- 
dition presented them with venison, turkeys, and 
other birds ; and continued singing and dancing till 
their departure. 

The success of this attempt encouraged him to re- 
peat his excursions by land and water, in the course 
of which he discovered several branches of James Ri- 
ver, and particularly the Chickahamony, from whose 
fertile banks he hoped to supply the colony with provi- 
sion. But industry abroad, will not make a flourish- 
ing plantation without economy at home. What he 
had taken pains and risqued his life to provide, was 
carelessly and wantonly expended ; the traffic with 
the natives being under no regulation, each person 
made his own bargain, and by out-bidding each other, 
they taught the Indians to set a higher value on their 
commodities, and to think themselves cheated when 
they did not all get the same prices. This bred a 
jealousy and sowed the seeds of a quarrel with them,' 
which the colony were in a poor condition to maintain, 
being at variance among themselves. 

As the autumn advanced, the waters weve covered 
with innumerable wild fowl ; which with the addition 
of corn, beans, and pumpkins, procured from the In- 
dians, changed hunger into luxury, and abated the 
rage for abandoning the country. Smith had been 
once up the river Cnickahamony, but because he had 
Jiot penetrated to its source, exceptions were made tq. 

his 



70 SMITH. 

his conduct as too dilatory. This imputation he de- 
termined to remove. In his next voyage, he went so 
high that he was obliged to cut the trees, which had 
fallen into the river, to make his way thro' as far as 
his boat could swim. He then left her in a safe place^ 
ordering his men not to quit her until his return ; then 
taking two of them, and two Indians for guides, he 
proceeded in one of their canoes to the meadows at 
the river's head j and leaving his two men with the ca- 
noe he went with his Indian guides across the mea- 
dows. A party of 300 Indians below, had watched 
the motions of the boat. They first surprized the 
straggling crew, and made one of them prisoner, 
from whom they learned that Smith was above. They 
next found the men whom he had left with the canoe, 
asleep by a fire, and killed them ; then having discov- 
ered Smith, they wounded him in the thigh with an 
arrow. Finding himself thus assaulted and wounded, 
he bound one of his Indian guides with his garters to 
his left arm, and made use of him as a shield, whilst 
lie dispatched three of his enemies and wounded some 
others. He was retreating to his canoe, when regard- 
ing his enemies more than his footsteps, he sud- 
denly plunged with his guide into an oozy creek, and 
stuck fast in the mud. The Indians astonished at his 
bravery did not approach him, till almost dead with 
cold, he threw away his arms, and begged them to 
draw him out, which they did and led him to the fire, 
•where his slain companions were lying. This sight 
admonished him what he was to expect. Being reviv- 
ed by their chafing his benumbed limbs, he called for 
their chief, Opechankanow, King of Pamunkee, to 
whom he presented his ivory compass and dial. The 
vibrations of the needle, and the fly under the glass, 
which they could see but not touch, afforded them 
much amusement ; and Smith having learned some- 
thing of their language, partly by means of that, and 
partly by signs, entertained them with the nature and 
uses of the instrument ; and gave them such a lecture 
en the motions of the heavens and earth, as amazed 

them 



SMITH. 71 

them, and suspended for a time the execution of their 
purpose. At length, curiosity being satiated, they 
fastened him to a tree, and prepared to dispatch liim 
with their arrows. At this instant, the chief holding 
\]p the compass which he esteemed as a divinity, they 
laid aside their arms, and forming a military proces- 
sion, led him in triumph to their village Orapaxe. 
The order of their march was thus : they ranged 
themselves in a single file, the King in the midst, be- 
fore him were borne the arnis taken from Smith and 
his companions ; next after the King, came the pri- 
soner, held by three stout savages, and on each side 
a file of six. When they arrived at the village, the 
old men, women, and children, came out to receive 
them; after some manoeuvres, which had the appear- 
ance of regularity, they formed theiriselves round the 
King and his prisoner, into a circle, dancing and singr 
ing, adorned with paint, furs and feathers, brandish- 
ing their rattles, which were made of the tails of rat- 
tle-snakes. After tJiree dances, they dispersed, and 
Smith was led to a long hut, guarded by forty men. 
There he was so plentifully feasted with bread and 
venison, that he suspected their intention was to fat- 
ten and kill him. One of the Indians, to whom 
Smith had formerly given beads, brought him a gar- 
ment of furs, to defend him from the cold. Another, 
whose son was then sick and dying, attempted to kill 
him, but was prevented by the guard. Smith being 
conducted to the dying youth, told them that he had 
a medicine at James-town, which would cure him, if 
they would let him fetch it ; but they had another de- 
sign, which was to surprize the place, and make use 
of him as a guide. To induce him to perform this 
service, they promised him his liberty, with as much 
land, and as many women as would content him. 
Smith magnified the difficulty and danger of their at- 
tempt, from the ordnance, mines and othet defences of 
the place, which exceedingly terrified them, and to 
convince them of the truth of what he told them, he 
wrote on a leaf of his pocket-book, an inventory of 

what 



72 SMITH. 

M hat be M'anled, with sonic directions to the people 
at the fort, liow to ailVij»;ht the messengers who went 
to deliver the Iclttr. They returned in three days> 
rei>orlinj^ the terror into which thcyluid been thrown, 
and wlien they produced ihe things for which he had 
written, the whole company were astonished at the 
power of his (Uvination by the ^'^/icakini^- leaf. 

After this lliey carried liiui thro' several nations, 
inhabiting the banks of llic Potownuuk and Hapahan- 
ock, and at Icnj>;lh brought him to ranumkee ; where 
they performed a strange ceremony, by which they 
intended to divine whether his ijitention toward them 
were friendly or hostile. 'J'he manner of it was this: 
cni'ly in the morning a great hre was made in a long 
house, and a mat spread on eaeh side, on one ofwhicii 
he^vas placed and the guard retired. Presently, an In- 
dian priest, hideously ])ainled and dressed in furs and 
Kiiake skins, came skipping in, and after a variety of 
imcouth noises and gestures, drew a ciixle with meal 
round the lire. Then came in three more in the same 
frightful dress, and after they had performed their 
dance three others. They all sat opposite to hint in 
a line, the thief priest in the midst. After singing 
a song, acconipanied with the nnisic of their rattles, 
the ehief priest laid ilown five grains of corn, and alter 
a short speech three more ; this was repeated till the 
fu'c was enciixled. Then contiiuiing the incantation, 
he laid sticks between the divisions of the corn. The 
whole day was spent it\ these ceremonies, with fast- 
ing ; and at nigut a feast was prepared of the best 
meats which they had. The same tricks were repeat- 
ed the two following days. They told him that the 
circle of meal reprcsenteil their country, the circle of 
corn the sea shore, and the sticks his country ; they 
did not acquaint him, or he has not acquainted us with 
the result of the operation ; but he observed that the 
gunjnnvder which ihcy had taken (vom him, was laid 
up amouv. their corn, to be planted Live next spring. 

After these ceren->onies, they brought him to the 
cnipcmr Powhatan, who received him in royal slatc^ 

cloth- 



I 



SMITH. 73 

tlolhcd i)i a robe of racoon skins, seated on a kind ol 
ihronc, clcvatcc) above the lluor of a lar^e hnt, in the 
midst of which was a lire ; at eacli hand of the i)vlnce 
sat two bcantifiil i;iils, his daui^htcrs, and alon'^^-' cacli 
side of the house a row of liis counsellors, painted 
and adorned with feathers and shells. At Smith's en- 
trance a ^reat shout was made. The Qiictn of Apa- 
matox, l)rouy;ht him water to wash his hands, and 
another served him with a bunch of feathers instead of 
a towel, ilavi!!}^ feasted him after their manner, a 
hm^ consultation was held, which being- ended, two 
large stones were brought in, on one of which his 
head was laid, and clubs were lifted up to beat out his 
l)rains. At this critical moment, J^ocahonfufi^ the 
King's favourite daughter, Hew to him, took his head 
in her arms, and laid her own u])on it. Her tender 
intreaties prevailed. The kinj^ consented that Smith 
bhould live, to make hatchets for him and ornaments 
for her. 

Two days after, Powhatan caused him to be brought 
to a distant house ; where, after another threatening, 
Jie confirmed his piomise, and told him he sJjouId re- 
turn to the ibrl, and send him two pieces of cannon, 
smd a grindstone, for which he would give him the 
country of Capahousick, and for ever esteem him as 
his son. Twelve guides accompanied hiu), and he 
yrrived at J<uues-tovvn the next clay. According to the 
s'.ii)ulalion, two gims and a large grindstone were of- 
fered them ; but having in vain trii:d lo lii'L them they 
"Were content to let them remain in their place. Smith, 
however, had the guns loaded, and discharged a vol- 
ley of stones at a tree covci'ed with icicles. Tijc re- 
port and elVect confounded them ; but being pacified 
witii a few toys, they returned, carrying i)resents to 
Powluitan and his (huighter, of such tiiingi as guve 
Ihem entire satisfaction. After this adventure, the 
young princess, Pocahontas, frequently visited the 
plantation, with her attendants, j-jkI the refreshments 
which she brought from time to time proved the means 
of saving many lives, which otherwise would have 
been lost. E Smith's 



^4 SMITH. 

Smith's return happened at another critical juncture. 
The colony was divided into parties, and the malcon- 
tents were again preparing to quit the country. His 
presence a third time defeated the project; in re- 
venge for which they meditated to put him to death, 
\mder pretence that he had been the means of mur- 
dering the two men who went with him in the canoe ; 
but by a proper application of valour and strength, he 
put his accusers under confinement, till an opportuni- 
ty presented for sending them as prisoners to Eng- 
land. 

The misfortunes and mismanagements of this Vir- 
ginian colony, during the period here related, seem 
lo have originated partly in the tempers and qualifica- 
tions of the men who were appointed to command, 
and partly in the nature and circumstances of the ad- 
venture. There could be no choice of men for the 
service, but among those who offered themselves j 
and these were previously strangers to each other, as 
well as different in their education, qualities and habits. 
Some of them had been used to the command of ships, 
andpartook of the roughness of the element on which 
they were bred. It is, perhaps, no great compliment 
to Smith, TO say that he was the best qualified of them 
for command ; since the event proved that none of 
them, who survived the first sickness, had the confi- 
dence of the people in any degree. It is certain that 
his resolution prevented the abandonment of the place 
the first year ; his enterprizing spirit led to an explo- 
ration of the country, and acquainted them with its 
many advantages ; hiscaptivityproducedan intercourse 
with the savages, and the supplies gained from them, 
chiefiy by means of his address, kept the people alive 
till the second arrival of the ships from England. The 
Virginians, therefore, justly regard him, if not as the 
father, yet as the saviour of that infant plantation. 

In the winter 1607, Capt. Newport arrived from 
England in Virginia. The other ship, commanded 
by Capt. Nelson, which sailed at the same time, was 
dismasted on the American coast, and blown off to 

the 



SMITH. 75 

the West Indies. The supplies sent by the company 
were received in Virginia with the most cordial avidi- 
ty ; but the general license given to the sailors, to trade 
•with the savages, proved detrimental to the planters, 
as it raised the prices of their commodities so high, 
tliat a pound of copper would not purchase what be- 
fore could be bought for an ounce. Newport him- 
self was not free from this spirit of profusion, so com- 
mon to seafaring men, which he manili^sted by send- 
ing presents of various kinds to Powhatan, intending 
thereby to give him an idea of the grandeur of the F^ng- 
lish nation. In a visit which he made to this Prince, 
under the conduct of Smith, he was received and en- 
tertained with an equal show of magnificence ; but in 
trading with the savage chief he found himself out- 
witted. Powhatan in a lofty strain, spoke to him thus : 
*' It is not agreeable to the greatness of such men as 
we are, to trade like common people for trifles ; lay- 
down therefore at once, all your goods, and I will 
give you the full value for them." Smith perceived 
the snare, and warned Newport of it ; but he, think- 
ing to outbrave the savage prince, displayed the whole 
of his store. Powhatan then set such a price on his 
corn, that not more tlian four bushels could be procu- 
red; and the necessary supplies could not have been 
)iad, if Smith's genius, ever ready at invention, had 
not hit on an artifice which proved successful. He had 
secreted some trifles, and among them a parcel of blue 
beads, which seemingly in a careless way, he glanced 
in the eyes of Powhatan. The bait caught him; and 
he earnestly desired to purchase them. Smith, in his 
turn, raised the value of them, extolling them as the 
most precious jewels, resembhng the colour of the 
sky, and proper only for the noblest sovereigns in the 
universe. Powhatan's imaginatioji was all on fire ; 
he made large offers. Smith insisted on more, and 
at length suiVered himself to he persuaded to take be- 
tween two and three hundred bushels of corn for about 
two pounds of blue beads, and they parted in very- 
good humour, each one being very much pleased with 

his 



76 SMITH. 

bargain. In a subsequent visit to Opechankanow, 
King of Pamunkee, the company were entertained 
with the same kind of splendor, and a similar bar- 
gain closed the festivity ; by which means, the blue 
beads grew into such estimation, that none but the 
princes and their families were able to wear them. 

Having finished the necessary business of the sea- 
j?on, and dispatched the ship, another voyage of dis- 
covery was undertaken by Capt. Smith and fourteeil 
others. They went down the river (June 10, 1608) in an 
open barge, in company with the ship, and having 
parted with her at Cape Henry, they crossed the mouth 
of the bay, and fell in with a cluster of islands with- 
out Cape Charles, to which they gave the name of 
Smith's Isles, which they still bear. Then le-enter- 
jngthe bay they landed on the eastern neck, itnd were 
kindly received by Acomack, the prince of that pen- 
insula, a part of which still bears his name. From 
thence they coasted the eastern shore of the bay, and 
landed sometimes on the main, and at other times on 
the low islands, of which they found many, but none 
fit for habitation. They proceeded up the bay to the 
northward, and crossed over to the western shore, 
down which they coasted to the southward, and in this 
route discovered the mouths of the great rivers which 
fall into the bay on that side. One in particular at- 
tracted much of their attention, because of a reddish 
earth which they found there, and from its resem- 
blance to bole ammoniac, they gave it the name of 
Bolus-river, and it is so named in all the early maps 
of the country ; but in the latter, it bears the Indian 
name Patapsco, on the north side of which is now 
the flourishing town of Baltimore. 

The Virginia Company in London, deceived by false 
reports, and misled by their own sanguine imagina- 
tions, had conceived an expectation not only of finding 
precious metals in the country, but of discovering the 
South Sea from the mountains at the head of James- 
river, and it was thought that the journey there might 
be performed in 8 or 10 days. For the purpose of 

mak- 



SMITH. 77 

making this capital cllscovery, they put on board New- 
port's ship, a barge capable of being taken to pieces, 
and put together again at pleasure. This barge was 
to make a voyage to the head of the river, then to be 
carried in pieces across the mountains, and to descend 
the rivers which were supposed to run westward to the 
South Sea. To facilitate this plan, it was necessary 
to gain the flivour of Powhatan, thro' whose country 
the passage must be made ; and, as means of winning 
him, u royal present was brought over, consisting of a 
bason and ewer, a bed and furniture, a chair of state, 
a suit of scarlet clothes, with a cloak and a crown, all 
which were to be presented to him in due form, and 
the crown placed on his head, with as much solemnity 
as possible. 

The present being put on board the boats, was car- 
ried down James-river, and up the Pamunkee, whilst 
Newport, with 50 men, went across by land, and met 
the boats, in which he passed the river, and held the 
proposed interview. All things being prepared for the 
ceremony of coronation, the present was brought from 
the boats ; the bason and ewer were deposited, the 
ijcd and chair were set up, the scarlet suit and cloak 
were put on, tho' not till Namontac (an Indian youth 
whom Newport had carried to England and brought 
back again) hud assured him that these liabilimentii 
would do him no harm ; but they had great diiTiculty 
in persuading him to receive the crown, nor would he 
bend his knee or Incline his head in the least degree. 
After many attempts, and with actual pressing en his 
slioulders, they at last made him stoop a little, and 
put it on. Instantly, a signal being given, the men 
in the boats fired a volley, at which the monarch start- 
ed with horror, imagining that a design was forming 
to destixiy him in the summit of his glory ; but being 
assured that it was meant as a compliment, his fear 
subsided, and in return for the baubles of royally re- 
ceived from King James, he desired Newport to pre- 
sent him his old fur mantle and deer-skin shoes, which 
in his estimation were doubtless a full equivalent, since 

all 



^^ SMITH. 

all this finery could not prevail on the "vvary chief to 
allow them guides for the discovery of the inland coun» 
try, or to approve their design of visiting- it. 

The htirvest of 1608 had fallen short both amon<y 
the new planters and the natives, and the colony was 
indebted to tlie inventive genius and indefatigable per- 
severance ot Smith, for their subsistence during the 
succeeding winter. The supplies procured by trading 
being infeuflicient, and Imnger very pressing, Smith 
ventured on the dangerous project of surprizing Pow- 
hatan, and currying off his whole stock of provisions. 
This Indian prince had formed a similar design with 
respect to Smith, and, for the purpose of betraying 
him, had invited him to his seat, promising that if he 
would send men to build him a house, after the Eng- 
lish mode, and give him some guns and swords, cop- 
])er and beads, he would load his boat with corn* 
Smith sent him 3 Dutch caipenters, who treacherous- 
ly revealed to him the design which Smith had form- 
ed. On his arrival with 46 men, he found the prince 
so much on his guard, that it was impossible to exe- 
cute his design. Having spent the day in conversa- 
tion (in the course of which Powhatan bad in vain en- 
deavoured to persuade Smith to lay aside his arms, as 
being there in perfect security) he retired in the even- 
ing, and formed a design to surprize Smith and his 
people at their supper ; and had it not been for tlie af- 
fectionate friendship of Pocahontas, it would probably 
have been effected. This amiable girl, at the risque 
of her life, stole from the side of her father, and pass- 
ing in the dark thro' the woods, told Smith, with tears 
in her eyes, of the plot, and then as privately return- 
ed. When the Indians brought in the supper, Smith 
obliged them to taste of every dish ; his arms were in 
readiness, and his men vigilant ; and tho' there came 
divers sets of messengers, one after another, during 
the night, under pretence of friendly inquiries, they 
found them so well prepared, that nothing; was attempt- 
ed, and the party returned in safety. 

15 



SMITH. 79 

In a subsequent visit to Opecancanough, by whom 
he formerly was taken prisoner, this prince put on the 
semblance of friendship, whilst his men lay in ambush 
with their bows and arrows. Tl)e trick being disco- 
vered by one of Smith's party, and communicated to 
him, he resolutely seized the King by his hair, and, 
holding a pistol to his breast, led him trembling to the 
ambush, and there, with a torrent of reproachful and 
menacing words, obliged him to order those very peo- 
ple not only to lay down their arms, but to load him 
with provisions. After this, they made an attempt to 
murder him in his sleep, and to poison him ; but both 
failed of success. The chief of Paspiha meeting hini 
alone in the woods, armed only with a sword, attempt- 
ed to shoot him ; but he closed with the savage, and 
in the struggle both fell into the river, where, after 
having narrowly escaped drowning, Smith at last pre- 
vailed to gripe him by the throat, and would have cut 
olf his head, but the intreaties of the poor victim pre- 
vailing on his humanity, he led him prisoner to James- 
town. 

This intrepid behaviour struck a dread into the sa- 
vages, and they began to believe what he had often 
told them, that " his God would protect him against 
all their power, whilst he kept his promise ; which 
was to preserve peace with them as long as they 
should refrain from hostilities, and continue to supply 
him with corn." An incident which occurred about 
the same time, confirmed their veneration for him.— 
An Indian having stolen a pistol from James-town, 
two brothers who were known to be his companions 
were seized, and one was held as hostage for the other, 
who was to return in 12 hours with the pistol, or the 
prisoner was to be hanged. The weather being cold, 
a charcoal fire was kindled in the dungeon, which was 
very close, and the vapour had so suHbcated the pri- 
soner, that, on the return of his brother at the appoint- 
ed time, with the pistol, he was taken out as dead. 
The faithful savage lamented his fate in the most dis- 
tressing agony. Smith, to console him, promised, if 

they 



89 SMITH, 

lliey would steal no more, that he should be recovered* 
On the application of spirits and vinegar, he shewed 
signs of life, but appeared delirious; this grieved, the 
brother as much as his death. Smith undertook to cure 
him of this also, on the repetition of the promise to 
steal no m.ore. The delirium, being only the efl'ect 
of the spirits which he had swallowed, was remedied 
l)y a few hours sleep ; and being dismisjsed, with a 
present of copper, they went away, believing and re- 
porting that Smith was able to bring the dead to life. 
The effect was, that not only many stolen things were 
recovered, and the thieves punished, but that peace 
and friendly intercourse were preserved, and corn 
brought in as long as they had any, whilst Smith re- 
mained in Virginia. 

Such was the state of the Virginia colony, when 
(^.optain Samuel Argal arrived on a trading voyage, 
and brought letters from the company in Englaiul, 
complaining of their disappointment, and blaming 
Smith as the cause of it. They had conceived an ill 
opinion of him, from the persons whom he had sent 
home, vrho represented him as arbitrary and violent 
toward the colonists, cruel to the savages, and dispos- 
ed to traverse the views of the adventurers, who ex- 
pected to grow rich very suddenly. 

There was this disadvantage attending the business 
of colonization in North America, at that day, that 
the only precedents which could be had were those of 
the Spaniards, who had treated the natives with ex- 
treme cruelty, and amassed vast sums of gold and 
s^ilver. Whilst the English adventurers detested the 
means by which the Spaniards had acquired their 
riches, they still expected that the same kind of riches, 
might be acquired by other means ; it was therefore 
thought politic, to be gentle in demeanor and lavish 
of presents toward the natives, as an mducement to 
them to discover the riches of their country. On 
these principles the orders of the Virginia Company 
to their servants were framed. But experience had 
taught Smith, the most discerning and faithftil of all 

•whom 



SMITH. 8x 

whom they had employed, that the country of Virgi- 
nia would not enrich the adventurers in the time and 
manner which they expected ; yet he was far from 
abandoning it as worthless ; his aim, was thoroughly 
to explore it, and by exploring, he had discovered 
what advantages might be derived from it ; to produce 
which, time, patience, expense and labour, were ab- 
solutely necessary. Pie had fairly represented these 
ideas to Iiis employers, he had spent three years in 
their service, and from his own observations had drawn 
and sent them a map of the country, and he had con- 
ducted their affairs, as well as the nature of circum- 
stances would permit. He had a disorderly, fac- 
tious, discontented, disappointed set of men to con- 
trol, by the help of a few adherents, in the face of 
the native lords of the soil, formidable in their num- 
bers and knowledge of the country, versed in strata- 
gem, tenacious of resentment, and very jealous ci 
strangers. To court them by presents was to acknow- 
ledge their superiority and inflate their pride and inso- 
lence. Though savages, they were men and not 
children. Though destitute of science, they were 
possessed of reason, and a sufficient degree of art. — 
To know how to manage them, it was necessary to 
be personally acquainted with them ; and it must be 
obvious, that a person who had resided several years 
among them, and had been a prisoner with them, was 
a much better judge of the proper methods of treat- 
ing them, than a company of gentlemen at several 
tliousand miles distance, and who could know them 
only by report. Smith iiad, certainly, the interest 
of the plantation at heart, and by toilsome experience, 
had just learned how to conduct it ; when he found 
himself so obnoxious to his employers, that a plan 
was concerted to supersede him, and reinstate, with 
a share of authority, those whom he had disnassed 
from the service. 

The Virginia Company had applied to the King to 
recal their patent and grant another; in virtue of which 
they appointed ThomasLord de laWarre, general ; Sir 

£ 2 " Thc^ 



fii SMITH. 

Thomas Gatei, lieutenant general ; Sir George Se- 
iners, admiral ; Sir Thomas Dale, marshal ; Sir Fer- 
ilinanclo Wainman, general of horse ; and Captain 
Newport (the only one who had seen the country) vice- 
admiral. The adventurers having, by the altei'ation 
of their patent, acquired a reinforcement both of dig- 
nity and property, equipped nine ships, in which were 
embarked 500 persons, men, women and children. — 
Gates, Somers, and Newport, had each a conmiission, 
investing eitlier of them v/ho might first arrive, with 
power to call in the old and set up the new commissi- 
on. The fleet sailed from England in May 1609, and 
by some strange policy, the three commanders were 
embarked in one ship. This ship being separated 
from the others in a storm, was wrecked on the island 
of Bermuda ; another foundered at sea ; and when the 
remaining seven arrived in Virginia, two of which 
were commanded by RatclifTe and Archer, they found 
themselves destitute of authority ; though some of 
them were full enough of prejudice against Smith, 
who was then in command.. The ships had been 
greatly shattered in their passage, much of their pro- 
vision was spoiled, many of their people were sick, 
and the season in which they arrived was not the most 
favourable to their recovery. A muiinous spirit soon 
broke out, and a scene of confusion ensued ; the new 
comers would not obey Smith, because they supposed 
his commission to be superseded; the new commissi- 
on was not arrived, and it was uncertain whether the 
ship v/hich carried it would ever be seen or heard of. 
Smith would gladly have whhdrawn and gone back to 
England, but his honour was concerned in maintaining 
his authority till he should be regularly superseded ; 
and his spirit would not suffer him to be trampled on 
by those he despised. Upon due consideration, he 
determined to maintain his authority as far as he was 
able, waiting some proper opportunity to retire. — 
Some of the most insolent of the new comers, * he 
laid by the heels." With the more moderate he con- 
sulted what was the best to be done ; and as a separa- 
tion 



SMITH, 83 

tion seemed to be the best remedy, and it had been in 
contemplation to extend Ihe settlements, some were 
induced to go up to the Falls, others to Nansemond, 
and others to Point Comfort. Smith's year being al- 
most expired, he oftered to resign to INIartin, who had 
been one of the old council, but Martin would not ac- 
cept the command; he, therefore, kept up the form, 
and, as much as he could, of the power of govern- 
ment ; till an accident which had nearly proved fatal 
to his life, obliged him to return to England. 

On his return from the new plantation at the Falls, 
sleeping by night in his boat, a bag of gun powder 
took fre, and burnt him in a most terrible manner. — 
Awaking in surprise, and finding himself wrapt in 
fljunes, he leaped into the water, and was almost 
drowned, before his companions could recover him. — 
At his return to James-town, in this distressed con- 
dition, Ratclilfe and Archer conspired to murder bini 
in his bed ; but the assassin, whom they employed, had 
not courage to fire a pistol. Smith's old soldiers 
would have taken off their heads, but he thought it 
prudent to pass by the offence, and take this opportun- 
ity, as there was no surgeon in tiie country, of re- 
turning to England. As soon as his intention was 
known, the council appointed Mr. Percie to preside in 
his room, and detained the ship three weeks, till they 
could write letters, and frame complaints against him. 
He at length sailed for England, about the latter end 
of September 1609, much regretted by his friends, 
one of whom has left this character of him. " In all 
his proceedings he made justice his first guide, and 
experience his second ; hating basenes, sloth, pride, 
and indignity, more than any danger. He never 
would allow more for himself than for his soldiers ; 
and upon no danger would send them where he would 
not lead them himself. He would never see us want 
what he had, or could by any means get for us. He 
would rather want than borrow ; or starve, than not 
pay. He loved action more than words ; and hated 
covetousness and falsehood worse than death. His 
adventures v.cre cur lives, and his lo.is oyr deaths." 



84 SMITH. 

There needs no better testimony to the truth of this 
character, than what is related of the miserable colony- 
after he had quitted it. Without government, without 
prudence, careless, indolent, and factious, they became 
a prey to the insolence of the natives, to the diseases 
of the climate, and to famine. Within six months 
their number was reduced from 500 to 60 ; and when 
the three commanders, who had been wrecked on 
Bermuda, arrived (1610) with 150 men in two 
small vessels, which they had built out of the ruins 
of their ship, and the cedars which grew on the island, 
they found the remnant of the colony in such a for- 
lorn condition, that without hesitation, they deter- 
mined to abandon the country, and were sailing down 
the river, when they met a boat from the Lord de 
Ja Warre, who had come with a fleet to their reliet. 
]5y his persuasion, they resumed the plantati->n, and 
to this fortunate incident, may be asci'ibed the full es- 
tablishment of the colony of Virginia. 

Such a genius as Smith's could not remain idle* 
He was well known in England, and the report of his 
valour, and his spirit of adventure, pointed him out 
to a number of merchants, who were engaged in the 
American fishery, as a proper person to make discov- 
eries on the coast of North Virginia, to take whales, 
f^xamine a mine of gold, and another of copper, which 
were said to be there, but which were never found. 

At Smiih's return to England, he put in at Ply- 
moutli, where, relating his adventures, and com- 
municating his sentiments to Sir Ferdinando Gor- 
iges, he was introduced to the Plymouth Company of 
adventurers to Nortii Virginia, and engaged in 
iheir service. At London he was invited by the 
South V irginia Company to return their service, but 
made \]se of his engagement with the Plymouth ad<- 
venturers as an excuse for declining their invitation. 
From this circumstance it seems, that they had been 
iionvinced of his former fidelity, notwithstanding the 
letters and reports which they had formerly received 
to his disadvantage. Dur- 



SMITH. 85 

During his stay in London, he had the very singular 
pleasure of seeing his friend Pocahontas, the daughter 
of Powhatan. Ilaving been made a prisoner in Vir- 
ginia, she was there married to Mr. John Rolfe, and 
by him was brought to England. She was then about 
22 years of age ; her person was graceful, and her 
deportment gentle and pleasing. She had been 
taught the English language and the Christian reli- 
gion, and baptized by the name of Rebecca. She 
had heard that Smith was dead, and knew nothing to 
the contrary, till she arrived in England. 

The fame of an Indian princess excited great curi- 
osity in London, and Smith had the address to write 
a handsome letter to the Queen, setting forth the me- 
rits of his friend, and the eminent services she had 
done to him and the colony of Virginia. She was in- 
troduced by the Lady De la Warre ; the Queen and 
royal family received her with complacency, and she 
proved herself worthy of their notice and respect. 
At her first interview with Smith she called him fa- 
ther ; and because he did not immediately return the 
salutation and call her child, she was so overcome 
■with grief, that she hid her face and would not tspeak 
for some time. She was ignorant of the ridiculous af-, 
fectation which reigned in the court of James, which 
forbade Smith assuming the title of father to the 
daughter of a King 1 and when informed of it she des- 
pised it,passionately declaring that she loved him as a 
lather, and had treated him as such in her own coun- 
try, and would be his child wherever she went. The 
same pedantic affectation caused her husband to be 
looked upon as an offender, for having, though a sub- 
ject, invaded the mysterious rights of royalty in mar- 
rying above his rank! — This marriage, however, prov- 
ed beneticiul to the colony, as her father had thereby 
become a friend to them, and when she came to Eng- 
land, he sent with her Uttamaccomac, one of his trusty 
counsellors, wl.om he enjoined to inquire for Smith, 
and tell him whether he was alive. Another order 
which he gave him was, to bring him the number of 

peo- 



86 SMITH. 

people in England ; accordingly on his landing at Ply 
moutn, the obedient savag-e began his account by cut- 
ting a notch on a long stick for every person -whom 
he saw, but soon grew tired of his employment, and 
at his return told Powhatan that they exceeded the 
number of leaves on the trees. A third command 
from his Prince was, to see the God of England, and 
the King, Queen, and Princes, of whom Smith had 
told him so much ; and when he met with Smith, he 
desired to be introduced to those personages. He had 
before this seen the King, but would not believe it, 
because the person whom they pointed out to him had 
not given him any thing. " You gave Powhatan (said 
he to Smith) a white dog, but your King has given 
me nothing." Mr.Rolfe was preparing to return with 
his wife to Virginia, when she was taken ill and di- 
ed at Gravesend, leaving an infant son, Thomas 
Rolfe, from whom are descended several families of 
note in Virginia, who hold their lands by inheritance 
from her. 

When the nev/s of the massacre of the V'irginian 
planters by the Indians, 1622, arrived in England, 
Smith was all on fire to go over to revenge the insult. 
He made an oRer to the company, that if they would 
allow him 100 soldiers r.nd 50 sailors, with the neces- 
sary provisions and equipments, he would range the 
country, keep the natives in awe, protect the planters, 
and make discoveries of the hitherto unknown parts 
of America ; and for his own risque and pains would 
desire nothing, but what he would *' produce from the 
proper labour of the savages." On this proposal the 
company was divided, but the pusiilaniraous and ava- 
ricious party prevailed ; and gave him this answer, 
*' that the charges v/ould be toogreat, that their stock 
-was r^iduced, that tiie planters ought to defend them- 
selves ; but, that if he would go at his own expence, 
they would give him leave, provided he would give 
them one half of the pillage." Such an answer could 
be received only with contem.pt. 

When 



SMITH. 87 

When the Khig in 1624, instituted a commission 
for the reformation of Virginia, Smith, by desire of 
the commissioners, gave in a relation of his former 
proceedings in the colony, and his opinion and advice 
respecting the proper methods of remedying the de- 
fects in government, and carrying on the plantation 
with a prospect of success. These with many other 
papers he collected and published, in 1627, in a thin 
folio, under the title of, " The General History of 
Virginia, New England, and the Somer Isles." The 
narrative part is made up of journals and letters of 
those who were concerned with him in the plantation, 
intermixed with his own observations. 

In 1629, at the request of Sir Robert Cotton, he 
published a history of the early part of his life, en- 
titled, " The true Travels, Adventures, and Observa- 
tions of Capt. John Smith." This work is preserved 
intirc, in the second volume of Churchill's collections, 
and from it, the former part of this account is com-> 
piled. In the conclusion he made some addition to the 
history of Virginia, Bermuda, New England, and the 
West Indies, respecting things which had come to 
his knowledge after the publication of his general his- 
tory. He stated the inhabitants of Virginia in 1628 
at 5000, and their cattle at the same num!)er. Their 
produce was chiefiy tobacco ; but those few who at- 
tended to their gardens had all sorts of fruit and ve- 
getables in great abundance and perfection. From 
New England they received salted fish ; but of fresli 
fish their own rivers produced enough^ beside an infi- 
nite quantity of fowl, as their woods did of deer and 
other game. They had two brew houses ; but they 
cultivated the Indian corn, in preference to the Euro- 
pean grain. Their plantations were scattered ; some 
of their hoyses were palisaded ; but they had no fortifi- 
cations nor ordnance mourAed. 

This was probably his last publication, for he lived 
'Irjt two years after. By a note in Josselyn's voyage, 
it appears that he died in 1631, at London, in the fifty- 
second year of his age. 

It 



88 SMITH. 

It would give give singular pleasure to the compiler 
of these memoirs, if he could learn from any credible 
testimony, that Smith ever received any recompence 
for his numerous services. The sense which he had 
of this matter, in 1627, shall be given in his own words, 
*' I have spent five years, and more than 500 pounds, 
in the service of Virginia and New England, and in 
neither of them have I one foot of land, nor the very 
house I built, nor the ground I digged with my own 
hands ; but I see those countries shared before me by 
those who knew them only by my descriptions." 



JOHN ROBINSON. 

THE first effectual settlements of the English in 
New-England were made by those, who, after 
the Reformation, dissented from the Episcopal Chuich, 
who suffered on account of their dissent, and sought 
an asylum from their Kufferings. Uniformity was 
insisted on with such rigour, as disgusted many con- 
scientious ministers and people of the Church of Eng- 
land, and caused that separation which has ever since 
subsisted. Those who would not conform to tire esta- 
blishment, but wished for a more complete reforma- 
tion, were at first distinguished by the name of Pun- 
tans ; and among these the most rigid were the Bronvju 
istsy so called from Robert Brown, " a fiery young 
clergyman," who in 1580, headed a zealous party, and 
was vehement for a total separation. But his zeal, 
however violent, was void of consistency, for in his 
advanced years he conformed to the Church ; whilst 
others, who more deliberately withdrew, retained their 
separation, tho' they became more candid and moder- 
ate in their principles. Of these people a Congrega« 
tionwas formed, about the year 1602, near the con- 
fines of the counties of York, Nottingham, and Lin- 
coln ; 



ROBINSON, 89 

coin ; who chose for their ministers, Richard Clifton 
and John Robinson. 

Mr. Robinson was born in the^^ear 1575, but the 
place of his birth is unknown. He \vas probably- 
educated in the University of Canibridge; and he is 
said to have been " a man of a learned, polished, and 
modest spirit ; jnous and studious of the truth ; largely- 
accomplished with gifts and qualifications suitable to 
be a shepherd over'the flock of Christ." Before his 
election to this oFIice, he had a benefice, near Yar- 
mouth, in Norfolk, where his friends were frequently- 
molested by the Bishop's officers, and some were 
almost ruined by prosecutions in the ecclesiastical 
courts. 

The reigning prince, at that time, was James I. 
than whom a more contemptible character never sat 
on the British throne. Educated in the principles of 
Presbyterianism, in Scotland, he forgot them on his 
advancement to the throne of the three kingdoms. — 
Flattered by the Bishops, he gave all ecclesiastical pow- 
er into their hands, and entrusted 5)'cophants with 
the management ot the State ; whilst he indolently re- 
signed himself to literary and sensual indulgen- 
cies ; in the former of wliich lie was a pedant, in the 
latter an epicure. The prosecution of the Puritans 
was conducted with unrelenting severity in the for- 
mer part of his reign, when Bancroft was Archbishop 
of Canterbury. Abbot who succeeded him was more 
favourable to them, but when Laud came into power, 
they were treated with every mark of insult and cru- 
elty. 

Robinson's congregation did not escape persecution 
by separating from the establishment, and forming an 
independent church. Still exposed to the penalties of 
the ecclesiastical law, they were extremely harrassed : 
some were thrown into prison, some were confined to 
their own houses, others were obliged to leave their 
farms, and suspend their usual occupations. Such 
was their distress and perplexity, that an emigration 
to some foreign country seemed the only means of 

safety 



9» ROBINSON. 

safety. Their first views >vere directed to Holland, 
where tlie spirit of commerce had dictated a free tole- 
ration of relii^ious opinions ; a blessing-, which neither 
the wisdom of politicians, nor the charity of clergy- 
men, had admitted into any other of the Eiu'opeaii 
states. But, the ports of their own country were sluit 
against them; they could^gct away only by geeking 
concealment, and giving extravagant rates for their 
passages, and fees to the mariners. 

In the autumn of 160/, a company of these Dissent- 
ers hired a ship at Boston, in Lincolnshire, in order 
to carry them to Holland. The Master promised to 
be ready at a certain hour of the day, to take them on 
board, with their families and effects. They assem- 
bled at the place, but he disappointed them. After- 
ward he came in the night, and wlien they were cm- 
barked, betrayed them into the hands of searchers and 
other officers, who, having robbed them of money, 
books, and other articles, and treated the women with 
indecency, carried them back into the town, and eX' 
posed then\ ajJ a Iaug<iing spectacle to the multitude* 
They were arraigned before the magistrates, who used 
them with civility, but could nol release them without 
an order from the King taid Council. Till this arriv- 
ed, they suii'cred a month's imprisoninent , seven 
"were bound o\er to the assize, and tiie others were re- 
leased. 

The next sprii^g (16G8), they made another attempt 
and hired a Dutch vessel, then lying in the harboui', 
to take them on board. The place agreed on was an 
unfrequented common, between Hull and Grimsby, 
remote from any houses. The women and children, 
with the baggage, were sent down the river in a sma.l 
bark, and the men agreed to meet them by land ; but 
they came to the place a day before the ship arrived. 
The water being rough, and the women sick, they 
prevailed on the pilot of the bark to put into a small 
creek, where they lay aground, when the Dutchman 
came and took one boat -load of the men on board. 
Before he could send ibr tlie others, a company of 

arm- 



IIOBINSONT. 9t 

armed men appeared on hoihcuuck, vviiich so frighten- 
ed him, that he v/eii^hcd anchor, and the wind being 
fair, put to sea. Some of the men w^ho were left be- 
hind, made their escape ; others, who went to the as- 
sistance of the women, were, with them, appreliended, 
and carried from one Justice of the Peace to another ; 
l)ut the Ju«tice3, not knowing what to do with so many 
])elpless and distressed persons, dismissed them. Hav- 
ing sold their houses, cattle and furniture, they had no 
homes to which they could retire, and were, there- 
fore, cast on the charity of tlieir friends. Those who 
were hurried to sea without their families, and des- 
titute even of a change of clothes, endured a terrible 
storm, in which neither sun, moon nor stars appeared 
for seven days. This storm drove tliem to the north- 
ward, and they very narrowly escaped foundering. 
After 14 days they arrived at Amsterdam, wliere the 
people were smprized at their deliverance, the tempest 
having been very severe, and much damat^e having 
been sustained both at sea and in the harbours of the 
continent. 

This forlorn company of emig!*?.nts were soon after 
joined by their wives and families. The remainder of 
the Church went over in the following summer ; Mr. 
Robinson, with a few others, remained to help the 
weakest, till they were all embarked. 

At Amsterdam, they found a congregation of their 
countrymen, who had the same religious views, and 
had emigrated before them. Their minister was John 
Smith, a man of good abilities, and a popular preach- 
er, but unsteady hi his opinions. These people fell 
into controversy, and were soon scattered. Fearing 
that the infection might spread, Robinson proposed 
lo his church a further removal, to which, tho' much 
to their disadvantage in a tempoial view, they consent- 
ed, and after one year spent at Amsterdanj, they re- 
moved to Leyden, where they continued 1 1 years. 
During this time, their number so increased by fre- 
quent emigrations from England, that they had in the 
Ithurch 300 communicants. 

At 



92 ROBINSON' ^ 

At Leydcn they enjoyed much harmony among 
tliemselvLS, and a tViendly intercourse with the Duuh. 
who, observing their diiis:ence and hdelilv in their 
business, entertained sos^ix'ut a respect for them, that 
the ma-istrates of the city (1619), in the seat of Jus- 
tice, having' occasion to censure some of the French 
Protestants, who had a church there, made tiiis pub- 
lic declaration, »' These English have lived among- us 
ten years, and yet we never had any suit or accusa- 
tion against any of them, but your quarrels are con- 
tinual." 

liavhig enjoyed their liberty in Holland eight or 
nine years, in which limetliey had become acquainted 
with the country and the manners of its hihabitants, 
they began to think of another removiil (1617.) The 
question then was, to m hat part of the world sl-.ould 
they remove, where they might expect freedom from 
the burdens under which they had formerly groaned, 
and the blessings of civil and religious liberty, which 
they had lately enjoyed. 

The Dutch merchants, being apprized of thtirdis- 
content, made them large oilers, if they would go to 
some of their foreign plantations ; but thtir attaclnnent 
to the English nation and government was invincible. 
Sir Walter Raleigh had, about th.is time, raised the 
lame of Guiana, a rich and fertile country of America 
l>etween the tropics, blessed with a perpetual spring, and 
productive of every thing which could satisfy the wants 
«->f man with little labour. To this country the views 
ol some of tlie most sanguine were directed ; but con- 
sidering that in such warm climates, diseases were 
genci'ated, which often proved fatal to European con- 
stitutions, and that their neaixist neighbours would be 
the Spaniards, who, tho' they had not actually occupi- 
ed the country, yet cUiimed it as their own, and might 
easily disposcss them, as they had the French of Flo- 
rida ; the major jx^rt disapproved of this pi-oposal. 

They then turned their thoughts toward that part 
of America, comprehended under the general nan^iC 
pf Virgi?ua, There, if they sliould join the Colony 

al- 



ROBINSON. <;3 

already established, they must submit to the govern- 
aient of the Church of Eiu^UukI. If they should at- 
tempt a new jjhmtatiou, the Jiorrors of a wildei'iicss, 
and the cruelties of its savag;e inliahitants were present- 
ed to I heir view. It was answered, that the Dutch 
had beg;un to plant within these limits, and were un- 
inolested ; that all great undertakings were attended 
with ditficulties ; but that the danger did not render 
the enterprize desperate ; that sliould they remain in 
lloliand, they were not free from danger, as a truce 
between the United Provinces and Spain, wliich had 
subsisted twelve years had nearly expired, and prepa- 
rations were making to renew the war ; that the Spa- 
niards, if successful, might prove as cruel as the sa- 
vages ; and that liberty, both civil and religious, was 
altogether precarious in Europe. These considera- 
tions determined their views toward the uninhabited 
part of North America, claimed by their native 
prince as part of his dominions; and their hope 
Avas, that by emigrating thither, they might make 
way for the propagation of the Christian religion in a 
heathen land, though (to use a phrase of their own) 
*' they should be but as stepping stones to others,'* 
v»'ho might come after them. 

These things were first debated in private, and af- 
terward proposed to tiie whole Congregation, who af- 
ter mature deliberation, and a devout address to Hea- 
ven, determined to make application to the Virginia 
Company in London, and to enquire " whether King 
James would grant them liberty of conscience in his 
American dominions ?" John Carver and Robert Cush- 
man were appointed their agents on this occasion, and 
letters were writrcn by Mr. Robinson atul Nli\ Brew- 
ster, their ruling elder, in the name of the Congrega- 
tion, to Sir Edwin Saiulys and Sir John Worstenholm 
two principal members of the Virginia Company. 

In those letters they recon\mended themselves as 
proper persons for emigration, because they were 
*' weaned from the delicate n^.ilk of their own country, 
and so inured to the difficulties of a strange land, 

that 



^4 ROBINSON. 

that no small things would discourage them, or make 
them wish to return home ; they had acquired habits 
of frugality and self-denial ; and were united in a so- 
lemn covenant by which they were bound to seek the 
welfare of the whole Company, and of every indivi- 
dual person." They also gave a succinct and candid 
account of their religious principles and practices, 
for the information of the King and his Council. 

The answer was such as they might expect. The 
Company promised them as ample privileges as 
were in their power to grant. It was thought prudent 
not to deliver their letter to the King and Council ; 
but application was made to Sir Robert Norton, Se- 
cretary of State, who employed his interest with Arch- 
bishop Abbot, and by means of his mediation, " the 
King promised to connive at their religious practices ;'* 
but "he denied them toleration under the great seal. 
With this answer, and some private encouragement, 
the agents returned to Holland. 

It was impossible for them to transport themselves 
to America, without assistance from the merchant 
adventurers in England. Further agency and agree- 
ments were necessary. The dissensions in tlie ^'ir- 
ginia Company were tedious and violent; and it v»as 
not till after two whole years, that all the necessary 
provisions and arrangements could be made for their 
voyage. 

In the beginning of 1620, they kept a solemn day" 
of prayer, when Mr, Robinson delivered a discourse 
from I Samuel xxiii. 3, 4 ; in which he endeavoured 
to remove their doubts, and confirm their resolutions. 
Il had been previously determined, that a part of them 
should go to America, and prepare the way for the o- 
thei's; and that if a major part should consent to go, 
the Pastor should go with them, otherwise, he should 
remain in Holland. It was found, on examination, 
that tho' a major part of them was willing to go, yet 
they could not all f,et ready in season ; therefore the 
greater number being obliged to stay, they required 
Mi'« Robinson to stay with them. 

In 



ROBINSON. 95 

In July, they kept another day of prayer, \vheTi 
Mr Robinson preached to them from Ezraviii. 21, 
and conchided his discourse with an exhortation, 
which breathes a noble spirit of christian liberty, and 
gives a just idea of the sentiments of this excellent 
divine, whose charity was the more conspicuous, be- 
cause of his former narrow principles, and the gene- 
ral bigotry of the reformed ministers and churches of 
that day. 

On the 2 1st of July, the intended passengers quitted 
Leyden, to embark at Delf-haven, to which place they 
were accompanied by many of their brethren and 
friends, several of whom had come from Amsterdam 
to take their leave of them. The evening was spent 
till very late, in friendly conversation ; and the next 
morning the wind being fair, they went on board ; 
where Mr. Robinson, on his knees, in a most ardent 
and affectionate prayer, again committed them to 
their divine Protector, and with many tears they part- 
ed. 

After their arrival in New England, he kept up a 
friendly correspondence with them ; and when any of 
tjiem went to Europe they were received by him with 
the most cordial welcome. The difficulties which then 
attended a voyage across the Atlantic, the expence of 
an equipment for a new colony, and the hardsiiips 
necessarily incident to a plantation in a distant wilder- 
ness, proved a burden almost too great for those who 
came over. They had a hard struggle to support them- 
selves here, and pay the debts which they had con- 
tracted in England ; whilst those who remained in 
Holland, were in general too poor to bear the expence 
of a removal to America, without the help of their 
brethren who had come before them. These things 
prevented Mr. Robinson from gratifying his earnest 
desire to visit his American bretlu'en, and their equal- 
ly ardent wish to see him till he was removed by death 
to a better country. 

This event proved the dissolution of the church over 
which he had presided at Leyden. borne of them 

re- 



96 ROBINSON. 

removed to Ameterdam, some to other parts of the 
Netherlands, and others came to New England, a- 
mong whom were his widow and children. His son 
Isaac lived to the age of ninety, and left male posteri- 
ty in the county of Barnstable. 



GEORGE CALVERT, Sec. 

GEORGE CALVERT was descended from a no- 
ble family of Flanders, and born at Kipling in 
Yorkshire (1582). He received his education at Tri- 
nity College in Oxford, and, after taking his Bache- 
lor's degree (1597), travelled over the continent of Eu- 
rope. At his return to England, in the beginning 
of the reign of James L he was taken into the office 
of Sir Robert Cecil, Secretary of State, and when Sir 
Robert was advanced to be Lord High Treasurer, he 
retained Calvert in his service, and employed him in 
tseveral weighty matters of state. 

By the interest of Sir Robert, then Earl of Salisbu- 
ry, he was appointed one of the Clerks of the Coun- 
cil, and received the honour of knighthood (1617), and 
in the following year was made Secretary of State, in 
the room of Sir Thomas Lake. Conceiving the Duke 
of Buckingham to have been instrumental of his pre- 
ferment, he presented him with a jewel of great va- 
lue ; but the Duke returned it, with a message, that 
he owed his advancement to his own merit and the 
good pleasure of his Sovereign, who was fully sensi- 
i>l-e of it. His great knowledge of public business, 
und his diligence and Hdelity in conducting it, had ren- 
dered him very acceptable to the King, who granted 
liim a pension of 1000/. out of the customs. 

In 1624, he consientiously became a Roman Catho- 
lic, and having freely owned his principles to the 
King, resigned his office. This ingenuous confession 

so 



CALVLRT, (;; 

so aflected the itjind of James, that he not only con- 
tinued him on the list of Privy Counsellors, but cre- 
ated him Baron of Baltimore, in the county of Cork 
in Ireland. 

Whilst he was Secretary of State and one of the 
Committee of Trade and Plantations, he obtained from 
the King, a patent for the south-eastern ])eninsula of 
Newfoundland, which he named the Province of Ava- 
/ojij irom Avalonius, a Monk, v/ho was supposed to 
have converted the British King Lucius, and all his 
Court to Christianity, in remembrance of which event, 
the Abbey of Glastonbury was founded at Avalon in 
Somersetshire. Sir George gave his province this 
name, imagining it would be the first place in North 
America where the gospel would be preached. 

At Ferryland, in his province of Avalon, he built a 
fine house, and spent 2jjOOO/, in advancing his plan- 
tation, which he visited twice in person. But it was 
so annoyed by the French, that, tho' he once repulsed 
and pursued their ships, and took 60 prisoners, yet 
he found his province so much exposed to their in- 
sults, and the trouble and expence of defending it so 
very great, that he was obliged to abandon it, and be 
content with the loss of what he had laid out in the 
improvement of a territory, the soil and climate of 
%vhlch were considered as unfavourable to his views. 

Being still inclined to form a settlement in Ameri- 
ca, Avhithcr he might retire with his family, and friends 
of the same religiouo principles, he made a visit to 
Virginia, the fertility aild advantages of which had 
been highly celebrated, and in which he had been in- 
terested, as one of the adventurers. But the people 
there, being Protestants of the Church of England, 
regarded him with a jealous eye, on account of his re- 
ligion, and by their unwelcome reception cf him, he 
was discouraged from settling \\ithin their jurisdic- 
tion. 

In visiting the bay oi Che'>apeak, he observed that 
the Virginians had established trading houses on some 
of the islands, but that they had not extended their 

F plan 



g8 CALVERT. 

plantations to the iiortliward of the river Potovvmack, 
altho' the country there was equally valuable with that 
Av'hich they had planted. 

AVhen he returned to England, he applied to King- 
Charles I. for the grant of a teri-itory northward of 
the Potowniack ; and the King, who had as great an 
affection for him as had his father James, readily 
complied with his request. But owing to the tedious 
forms of public business, before a patent could be 
completed and pass the seals, Loid Baltimoi^ died at 
London on the 15th of April, 1632, in the 51st year 
of his age. 

After the death of Sir George, the patent was 
drawn in the nanie of his eldest son Cecil, Lord Bal- 
timore, and passed the seals on the 28th of June, 
1632. The original draught being in Latin, the pa- 
tentee is called Cecilius^ and the country " Terra ]\Ia- 
rici', oucfff j\/anjia7idi" in honour of Henrietta Maria, 
the Queen consort of Charles L* 

From the great precision of this Charter, the povi^- 
ers which it gives to the proprietor, and the privi- 
leges and exemptions which it grants to the people, it 
is evident that Sir Gf^orge himself was the chief pen- 
man of it. One omission was soon discovered ; no 
provision was made, that the laws should be trans- 
mitted to the Sovereign for his approbation or disal- 
lowance. The Commissioners of Trade and Planta- 
tions made a iiprescntation of this defect to tlie 
House of Commons, in 1633, and an act of Parlia- 
ment was proposed as the only remedy. 

The province of Maryland is thus described : ''• All 
that part of a peninsula in America, lying between 
the ocean on the east and Bay of Chesapeak on the 

west 

* Ogilhy fays, that a blank was left for the name of the 
territory, which Lord Bahimore intended to have filled with 
Cresctntia — but when the King alkcd him for a name, he com-, 
plaifantly referred it to his Majelly's pleafure, who propofed 
the na.ne of the C^een, to which liis Lordfliij) could not but 

confent. He alfo fays, that tlie fecond Lord Baltimore was 

chriltened Cecil, in honour of his father's patron, but was 
confirmed by the name of Cecilius. 



CALVERT. 99' 

west, and divided from the other part, by a right line 
drawn from Watkin's Point, in ^he aforesaid bay, on 
the west, to the main ocean on the east. Thence to 
that part of Delaware Bay on the north, which heth 
luider the fortieth degree of north latitude from tlie 
equinoctial, where New-England ends. Thence in 
a right line, by the degree aforesaid, to the true meri- 
dian of the lirst fountains of the river Potowmack. 
Thence following the course of said river to its mouth, 
where it falls into the Bay of Ghesapeak. Thence on 
i\ right line, across the 'bay to Watkin's Point ; with 
all the islands and islets within these limits." 

This region wa.i erected into a Province, and tlie 
proprietor was invested with palatine honours. In 
conjunction with the freemen or their delegates he 
had legislative, and, in person, or by oiBcers of his 
own appointment, he had executive powers. He had 
also the advowson of churches, the erection of ma- 
nors, boroughs, cities and ports ; saving the liberty of 
fishing and drying fish which was declared common to 
all the King's subjects. The Charter provided, that 
if any doubts should arise concerning the sense of it, 
such an interpretation should be given as would be 
most fcwourable to the interest of the proprietor; 

The "territory is said to be " in the parts of Ameri- 
n not 3 ct cultivated, tho' inhabited by a barbarous 
people," and it is provided, thattJie Province " should 
not be holden nor reputed as part of Virginia, or of 
any other Colony, but immediately dependant on the 
Crown of England." These clauses to.c,et!!er v/lth tiie 
construction put on the 40th degree of latitude, prov- 
ed the ground of long and bitter controversies, one of 
which was not closed till nffer the lapse of a century. 

After receiving the • , Eord Baltimore began 

to prepare for the collecting and i unsporting a colony 
to America, At t'j'sf, l^e intended to go in peiT^on, 
but afterward changed his miiid, and appointed his 
brother Leonard Calvert, Governor, with two assist- 
ai|ts Jeremy Hawley and Thomas Cornvvallis. These, 
with about 200 persons of gocd farnilie." and of the Ro- 
man 



TOO CALVERT. 

man Catholic persuasion embarked at Cowes in the Isle 
of Wight, on the 22nd of November, 1633, and af- 
ter a circuitous voyage thro' the West Indian islands, 
touching first Barbadoes and then at St. Christopher's, 
they came to anchor before Point Comfort, in Virgi- 
nia, on the 24th of February, 1634; and, g-oing up 
to James-town, delivered to C^overnor Harvey the let- 
ters which the King had written in their favour. The 
Governor and his Council received them with that ci- 
vility which was due to the con\mand of their Sove- 
reign, but they resolved <'to maintain the rights of the 
prior settlement." They afforded to the New Colony 
supplies of provision for domestic use ; but considered 
them as intruders on their territory, and as obstructing 
that traffic, from which they had derived or expected 
to derive much advantage. 

On the 3d of March, Calvert with his Colony pro- 
ceeded in the Bay of Chesapeak, to the northward, 
and entered the Potowmack, up which he sailed 12 
leagues, and came to anchor under an island, which 
he named 67. Chment, Here he fired his cannon, e- 
rected u cross, and took possession, " in the name of 
the Saviour of the world and the King of England." 
Thence he went with his pinnaces 15 leagues higher 
to the Indian town of Potowmack, on the Virginian 
side of the river, now called New-INIarlborough, where 
he was received in a friendly manner by the Guardian 
Regent, the prince of the country being a minor. 
Thence he sailed 12 leagues farther, to the town of 
Piscataway, on the Maryland side ; where he found 
Henry Fleet, an Englishman, who had resided several 
years among the natives, and was held by them in 
great esteem. He procured an interview betwen Cal- 
vert and the W^erowance or Lord of the place, and 
officiated as their interpreter. Calvert, determining 
to pursue a course of conduct founded on pacific and 
honourable intentions, asked theWerowance, whether 
Jie was willing that he and his people should settle in 
his country ? His answer was short and prudent : *' I 
will not bid you to go, nor to stay ; but you may use 

your 



CALVERT. 301 

your own discretion." This interview was held on 
board the Governor's pinnace ; the natives on the 
shore crowded to the water's edge, to look after their 
Sovereign, and were not satisfied of his safety, till he 
stood up and showed himself to them. 

Having made this discovery of the river, and con- 
vinced the natives that his designs were amicable, the 
Governor, not thinking it adviseable to make his first 
settlement so high up the river, sailed down to the 
ships, taking Fleet with him for a guide. The na- 
tives, who, when Ihey first saw the ships and heard 
the guns, had fled from St Clement's Island and its 
neighbourhood, returned to their halntations and seemed 
to repose confidence intheir new friends; but this was not 
deemed a proper station. Under the conduct of Fleet, 
the Governor visited a creek on the northern side of the 
Potovv mack about four leagues from its mouth, "where 
was an Indian village, surrounded by corn-fields, and cal- 
led Yoacomaco. Calvert went on shore, and acquainted 
thePrince of the place with his intention, who was rather 
reserved in his answer, but entertained him in a friend- 
ly manner, and gave him a lodging in his own bed. 

On the next day, he shewed Calvert the C6imtry, 
which pleased him so well, that he determined there 
to fix his abode, and treated with the Prince about 
purchasing th,e place. Calvert presented him and his 
principal men with English cloth, axes, hoes and 
knives ; and they consented that their new friends 
should reside in one part of their town, and them- 
selves in the other part, till the next harvest, when 
they promised to quit the ])lace, and resign it wholly 
lo them. Both parties entered into a contract to Ijve 
together in a friendly manner ; or, it any injury should 
be done on either side, the offending party should make 
satisfaction. Calvert having given them what he 
deemed a valuable consideration, with which they ap- 
peared to be content, they readily quitted a number 
of their houses, and retired to the others ; and it be- 
ing the season for planting, both parties went to work. 
Thtis^ on the 27th of March, 1634, the English co- 
lony 



102 CALVERT. 

lony took peaceable possession of the country of Jilw 
ryland, and gave to the town the name of St. Mary, 
and to the creek, on which it was situated, the name 
of -S"/. George, 

The desire of quieting; the natives, by giving them 
a rea:Sonuh]c and satisfactory compensation ior their 
lands, is a trait in the character of the first planters 
which will always do iionour to their memory. 

It was a fortunate circumstance for these adventur- 
ers, that, previous to their arrival, the Indians of Yo- 
acomaco had resolved to quit their country, and re- 
tire to the westward, that tliey might be free from the 
inciu'sions of the Susquehanocks, a powerful and war- 
like nation, residing- between the Bays ot Chesapeak 
andDeliv/are, v.'ho frequeniiy in\ adcd them, and car- 
ried o!f their provisions and women. Some had ac- 
tually removed, and the others were pi-eparing to fol- 
low, but were encouraged to remain another season, 
by the>presence of the English. They lived on friend- 
ly terms with the colony, the men assisted them in 
hunting and fishing> the women taught them to ma- 
r.age the planting aud culture of corn, and the making 
it into bread, and they #erc compensated for their la- 
bour and kindness in such tools and tiinkcts as were 
pleasnig to them. According to their promise, they 
quitted the place wholly in the following year, and the 
colony had full and quiet possession. 

The colony had brought with them English meal, 
but they found Indian corn in great plei\ty both at Bar- 
hadoes and Virginia; and by the next spring they were 
able to export 1000 bushels to New England and New- 
foundkaid, for which they received dried fish and other 
provisions in return. They procured cattle, swine and 
poultry from Virginia. They were very industrious 
in building houses and making gardens, in which they 
sowed the seeds of European esculent vegetables, and 
Jiad the pleasure to see them come to high perfection. 
They suflered much in their liealth by the fever and 
a<^ue, and many of them died ; but, when the surviv- 
ors were seasoned to the climate, and had learned the 

use 



CALVERT. 103 

lise of indigenous medicinal rennedies, they enjoyed 
their health much better. The country had so many 
natural advantages, that it soon became populous. 
Many Roman Catholic families from England resort- 
ed thither, and the proprietor, M'ith a degree of wis- 
dom and generosity then unparalleled but in Holland, 
after having established the Christian religion upon the 
footing of common law, granted liberty of conscience 
and equal privileges to Christians of every denomina- 
tion. With this essential benelit was connected secu- 
rity of property ; lands were given, in lots of 50 acres, 
to eveiy emigrant, in absolute fee simple. Under 
such advantages, the people thought themselves so 
happy, that, in an early period of their colonial exist- 
ence, they, in return, granted to the proprietor a subsi- 
dy of 15 pounds of tobacco on avQvy poll, " as a testi- 
mony of their gratitude for his great charge and soli- 
citude in maintaining the government, in protecting 
the inhabitants in their rights, and for reimbursing his 
vast expence," which, during the two iirst years, ex- 
ceeded 40,000/. sterling. 



WILLIAM PENN. 

WILLIAM PENN, the founder of Pennsylvania 
was the grandson of Captain Giles Pcnn, an 
English Consul in the Mediterranean, and the son of 
Sir William Penn, an Admiral of the English navy, 
in the Protectorate of Cromwell, and in tlie reign of 
Charles II. in which offices he rendered very import- 
ant services to the nation, particularly by the conquest 
of Jamaica from the Spaniards, and in a naval victory 
over the Dutch. William was born October 14, 1644, 
in the parish of St. Catherine, near the tower of Lon- 
don, educated at Chigwcll, in Essex, and at a private 
school in London ; and, in the 1 5th year of his age, 
entered as a student and gentleman commoner of 
Christ-Church College in Oxford. 



304 W.PENN. 

His genius was bright, his disposition sober and 
studious, and being possessed of a lively imagination 
and a warm heart, the tii-st turn of his mind towaixl 
religious subjects was attended with circumstances 
bordering on enthusiasm. Having received his first 
impressions from the preaching of Thomas Loe, an 
itinerant Quaker, he conceived a favourable opinion of 
*Hlie fjghts and refinements of tliat rising sect," which 
led him, while at the University, m conjunction witli 
some other students, to withdraw from the established 
worship, and hold a private meeting, where they 
preached and prayed in their own way. The disci- 
pline of the University being very strict in such mat- 
id's, he was fined for "the sin of nonconformity ;" this 
?>erved to fix him more firmly in his principles and ha- 
bits, and exposed his singularity more openly to the 
world. His conduct being then deemed obstinate, he 
was, in the 1 6lh year of his age, expelled, as an in- 
corrigible offender against the laws of uniformity I 

On his return home, he found his father highly in- 
censed against him. As neither remonstrances, nor 
threatenings, nor blows, could divest him of his I'eli- 
gious attachments, he was, for a while, turned out of 
the house ; but by the influence of his mother, he was 
so far restored to favoiu* as to be sent to France, in 
company with some persons of quality, witli a view to 
unbend his mind, and refine his manners. Here he 
learned the language of the country, and acquired 
such a polite and courtly behaviour, that his father, 
after two years absence, received him with joy, hoping 
that tlie object of his wishes was attained. He was 
then admitted into Lincoln's Inn, where he studied 
law till the plague broke out in 1665, when he return- 
edto his father's house. 

About this time (1666) the King^s coffers being low, 
and claims for unrewarded services being importu- 
nate, grants were frequently made of lands in Ireland ; 
and the merits of Sir William Penn being not the 
least conspicuous, he received a valuable estate in the 
county of Cork, and committed the mana§;ement of 

it 



W.PENN. 105 

it to his son, then in the 22nd year of liis ag;c. Here 
he met with his okl friend Loe, and immediately at- 
tached himself to the society of Quakers, tlio' at that 
lime they were subject to severe persecution. This 
might liave operated as a discouragement to a young" 
gentleman of such quaHty and expectations, especial- 
ly as he exposed himself thereby to the renewed dis- 
pleasure of a parent M'ho loved him, had not the in- 
tegrity and fervor of his mind induced him to sacrifice 
all worldly considerations .to the dictates of his con- 
science. 

It was not long before he was a])prehendcd at a ic- 
ligious conventicle, and, with 18 others, committed to 
I)rison by the Mayor of Cork; but upon his writing 
a handsome address to the Earl of Orrery, Lord Pre- 
sident of Munster, in which he very sensibly pleaded 
for liberty of conscience, and professed his desire of a 
peaceable, and his abhorrence of a tumultuous and 
disrespectful separation from the established worship, 
he was discharged. This second stroke of persecu- 
tion engaged him more closely to the Quakers ; He 
associated openly with them, and bore with calnmess 
and patience, the cruel abuse which was liberally be- 
stowed on that singular party. 

His father being inforn.ed of his conduct, remand- 
ed him home ; and tho' now William's age forbad his 
trying the force of that species of discipline, to which, 
as a naval commander, he had been accustomed, yet 
lie plied him with those arguments, which it was na- 
tural for a man of the world to use, and which, to such 
an one, would have been prevailing. The principal 
one was a threatening to disinherit him ; and to this 
he humbly oubmittcd, tho' he could by no meuus be 
persuaded to take oiT his hat in presence of the King, 
the Duke of York, or his father. For this inf.cxibility 
lie way again turned out of doors ; upon which he 
commenced an itenerant preacher, and had much suc- 
cess in making proselytes. In these excursions, the 
opposition w)ach he met v^ith from the clergy and the 
magistracy, frequenllv brought him into dilLcukies, 

F 3 and 



io6 W.PENN. 

and sometimes to imprisonment; but his integrltv 
was so manifest, and liis patience so invincible, that 
his father, at length, became softened toward him, 
and not only exerted his interest lo release him from 
connncment, but winked at his return to the family 
whenever it suited his conveniency. His mother was 
always his friend, and often supplied his necessities 
without the knowledge of the father. 

In the year 1668, he commenced author, and, hav- 
ing written a book, entitled " The sandy foundation 
shaken," which gave great oHence to the spintual 
Lordfi^ he was imprisoned in the Tower, and the vi- 
sits of his friends were forbidden. But his adversa- 
ries found him proof again .t all their efforts to subdue 
him; for a message being brought to him by the Bi- 
shop of London, that he must either publickly recant, 
or die a prisoner, his answer was, " My prison shall 
be my grave. 1 owe my conscience to no man. They 
are mistaken in me ; I value not their threats. They 
shall know that I can weary out their malice, and baffle 
all their designs, by the spirit of patience." During 
this confinement he wrote his famous book, *' No 
Cross, no Crown ;" and another, " Innocency with 
her open face," in which he explained and vindicated 
the principles which he had advanced in the book for 
which he Avas imprisoned. This, with a letter which 
lie wrote to Lord Arlington, Secretary of State, aided 
by the interest which his father had at Court, procur- 
ed his release, after seven months' confinement. 

Soo)i rJter this, he made another visit to Ireland, to 
settle his fatiier's concerns, in which he exerted him- 
self witii great industry and success. Here he con- 
stantly appeared at the meetings of the Quakers, and 
not only odiciated as a preacher, but used his interest 
with the i^ord Lieutenant, and others of the nobility, 
to procure indulgence for them, and to get some of 
them released from their im.prisonment. 

In 1 070, an act of Parliament was made, which pm- 
hibited the meetings of Dissenters under severe penal- 
lies. The Quakers being forcibly debarred entering 
their meeting house in Grace-Church-street, London, 

as- 



W.PENN. 107 

assembled before it iu the street, where Fcnn preach- 
ed to a numerous concourse, ;uid being apprehended 
on the spot by a warrant fi-om the Lord Mayor, was 
committed to Newgate, and at the next session, took 
his trial at the Old Bailey, where he pleaded his own 
cause with the freedom of an Englishman and the 
magnanimity of a hero. The jury at first brought iu 
their verdict " guilty of sficaking in Grace-Church- 
street ;" but this being unsatisfactory to the Court, 
they were detained all night, and the next day return- 
ed a verdict " not guilty." The Court were highly 
incensed againstthem, fined ihem forty marks, each, 
and imprisoned them along with Penn, till their fines 
and fees were paid. An expresssion which dropped 
from the Recorder on this trial, rendered the cause of 
the Quakers popular, and their persecutors odious : 
" It will never be well with us (said the infamous Sir 
John Howel) till something like the Spanish in.quisition 
be established in England." The triumph of Penn was 
complete : being acquitted by his peers, he was releas- 
ed from prison, on tJie payment of his fees, and re- 
turned to the zealous exercise of his ministry. 

His conduct under this prosecution did him great 
honour. His father became perfectly reconciled to 
him, and soon after died,* leaving his paternal bless- 
ing and a plentiful estate. This accession of fortune 
made no alteration in his manners or habits: He con- 
tinued to preach, to write, and to travel as before ; 
and, within a few months afterwards, was taken uj) a- 
gain for preaching in the street, and carried ^to the 
Tower, from whence after a long examination he was 
sent to Newgate, and being discharged without any 

trial 

* The dying advice of , his father defervcs to be umember- 

ed. " Three things I commend to you : 1. Let uotliiug 

tempt you to wrong your conlcience ; if you keep peace at. 
home, it will be a fcall to you in the day of tn>uble. s. What- 
ever you defign to do, lay itjuiily, and time ic fealbnably, 
for that gives lecurity and difpatch, 3. Be not troubled at 
difappointrnents ; if they m^y be recovered, do ii ; if not, 
trouble is vain — -Thefe rules will carry you with firmnel's and 
comfort thro' this iuconilaut woild." — No Cross No Qown, 



io8 W.PtNN. 

trial at the end of nine months, he went over to Hol- 
land and Germativ, where he continued travelling and 
preaching, till the King published his << declaration of 
indulgence to tender consciences ;" upon which he re- 
turned to England, married a daughter of Sir Wil- 
liam Springet, and settled at RicKmansv/orth, in 
Hertfordshire ; where he pursued his studies, and 
multiplied his controversial writings for about five 
years. 

In 1677, he " had a drawing" to renew his travels 
in Holland and Germany, in company with Fox, Bar- 
clay, Keith, and several others of his brethren. On 
liis return to England, he found his friends suffering 
by the operation of a law made against Papists, the 
edge of which was unjustly turned against them. The 
Jaw required a certain oath to be tendered to those who 
were suspected of Popery, and because the Quakers 
denied the lawfulness of oaths, in any case whatever, 
they were obliged to bear the penalty annexed to the 
refusal of this oath, which was no less than a fine of 
20/. per month, or two-thirds of their estate ! — By 
Penn's advice, they petitioned the Parliament for re- 
dress of this grievance, and after explaining the rea- 
son of their declining the oath, oRered to give their 
word to the same purport, and to submit to the penal- 
ty, '• if they should be found faulty." Penn had a 
hearing before a committee of Parliament, when lie 
pleaded the cause of his friends and of himself, in a 
sensible, decent, convincing manner, and what he 
said had so much weight, that the committee agreed 
to insert in a bill, then pending, a proviso for their re- 
lief. The bill passed the Commons, but before it 
( ould be p;ot thro' the House of Lords, it was lost by 
a sudden prorogatioi^ of Parliament. 

We have liithcrto viewed Mr. Penn as a Christian 
and a preacher, and he appears to have been honest, 
zealouji, and industrious in the conccnis of religi- 
on — We shall now view him in the character of a Le- 
gislator, in which respect hi'^ learning,his suiferings, his 
acquaintance v»'ith mankind, and his genuine liberality, 

were 



W.PENN. 109 

were of great use to him. Among his various studiesjhe 
had not omitted to acquaint himself with the princi- 
ples of law and government ; and he had more espe- 
cial inducements to this, from the prosecutions and ar- 
rests which he frequently suffered, into the legality of 
which it was natural for him to inquire. He had ob- 
served in his travels abroad, as well as in his acquaint- 
unce at home, the workings of arbitrary power, and 
the mischiefs of usurpation ; and he had studied the 
whole controversy between regal and popular claims : 
the result of which was, " that government must be 
founded on justice, and exercised with moderation." 

It has been observed that his father, Sir William 
Penn, had merited much by his services in the Eng- 
lish navy. There were also^certain debts due to him 
from the Crown, at the time of his death, which the 
royal treasurers were poorly able to discharge. His 
son, after much solicitation, found no prospect of get- 
ting his due in the common mode of payment, and 
therefore turned his thoughts toward obtaining a grant 
of land in America, on which he might make the ex- 
periment of settling a Colony, and establishuig a go- 
vernment suited to his own principles and views. 

Mr. Penn had been concerned with several other 
Quakers in purchasing of Lord Berkeley, his patent 
of West -Jersey, to make a settlement for their perse- 
cuted brethren in Ejigland, many of v/hom traiisport* 
X'd themselves thither, in hope of an exemption irorn 
the troubles which they had endured, from the execu- 
tion of the penal laws against Dissenters. But they 
found themselves subject to the arbitrary impositions 
of Sir Ednumd Andros, who governed the Duke of 
York's territory, and exercised jurisdiction over all 
the settlements on both sides of the Delaware. Penn 
and his associates remonstrated agairiS^t his conduct, 
but their efforts proved inefi^eclnal. However, the 
concern which PeriU had in th.is purchase gave him 
not only a taste for speculating in land, Init a know- 
ledge of tlie American coasts ; and being desirous 
of acquiring a separate estate, where he niis^lit real- 
ize 



MO W.PENN. 

ize his sanguine wishes, he had great advantage in 
making inquiry and determining on a place. 

Having examined all the former grants to the com- 
panies of Virginia and New-England, the Lord Balti- 
more and the Duke of York, he hxed upon a territory- 
bounded on the east by the bay and river of Delaware, 
extending southAvard to Lord Baltimore's province of 
Maryland, westward as far as the western extent of 
Maryland, and northward " as far as plantable." For 
this he petitioned the King, and being examined be- 
fore the Privy Council, on the 14th of June concerning 
those words of his petition, " as far as plantable, 
(he declared) that he should be satisfied with the extent 
of three degrees of latitude ; and that in lieu of such 
a grant, he was willing to remit his debt from the 
Crown, or some part of it, and to stay for the remain- 
der, till his Majesty should be in a better condition to 
satisfy it." 

Notice of this application was given to the agents of 
the Duke of York and Lord Baltimore, and inquiry 
was made, how far the pretensions of Penn might 
consist with the grants already made to them. The 
peninsula betw^een the bays of Chesapeak and Dela- 
•ware had been planted by detached companies of 
Swedes, Finland ers, Dutch and English. It was, first 
by force, and afterwards by treaty, brought under the 
dominion of the Crown of England. That jmrt of it 
which bordered on the Delaware was within the Duke 
of York's patent, while that which joined on the Che- 
sapeak was Vk^lthin the grant to I^ord Baltimore. 

The Duke's agent consented that Penn should have 
the land west of Delaware and north of Newcastle 
" in consideration of the reason he had to expect fa- 
vour from his Majesty." Lord Baltimore's agent pe- 
titioned that Penn's grant might be expressed to lie 
north of Susquehannah fort, and of a line drawn east 
and west from it, and that he inight not be allowed to 
sell arms and ammunition to the Indians. To these 
restrictions Penn had no objection. 

The 



W.PENN. Ill 

The Charter, consisting; of 23 sections, <f penned 
with all the appearance of candour and simplicity," 
was signed and sealed by King Charles II. on the 
4th of March, 1681. It constitutes William Penn, 
and his heirs, true and absolute proprietaries of the 
Province of Pennsylvania, saving to the Crown their 
allegiance and the sovereignty. 

The Charter being obtained, he found himself au- 
thorized, to agree with such persons as were disposed 
to be adventurers to his new province. By a jjublic 
advertisement, he invited purchasers, and described 
the country, with a display of the advantages which 
might be expected from a settlement in it. This in- >y 
duced many single persons, and some families, chiefly 
of the denomination of Quakers, to think of a remo- 
val. A number of merchants and others, formed 
themselves into a company, for the sake of encourag- 
ing the settlement and trade of the country, and pur- 
chased 20,000 acres of land. They had a President, 
Treasurer, Secretary, and a committee of twelve, who 
resided in England, and transacted their common bu- 
siness. Their objects were to encourage the manu- 
factures of leather and glass, the cutting and sawing 
of timber, and the whale-fishery. 

The land was sold at the rate of twenty pounds for 
every thousand acres. They who rented lands were 
to pay one penny yearly per acre. Servants when 
their terms were expired, were entitled to iifty acres, 
subject to 2s. per annum ; and their masters were al- 
lowed fitly acres for each servant so liberated, but sub- 
ject to 4.9. per annum; or if the master should give 
the servant fifty acres out of his own division, he 
might receive from the proprietor 100 acres subject 
to 6s per annum. In every Imndred thousand acres, 
the proprietor reserved ten for himself. 

According to the powers given by the charter, "for 
regulating and governing property within the pro- 
vince," he entered into certain articles with the pur- 
chasers and adventurers (July II, 1631) which were 
entitled ''• Conditions and Concessions." These relat- 
ed 



iiz W.PENN. 

ed to the laying out roads, city and county lots, the 
privilege of water-courses, the property of mines 
and minerals, the reservation of timber and mulberry 
trees, the terms of improvement and cultivation, the 
traffic with the Indians, and the means of preserving 
peace with them, of preventing debtors, and other 
defaulters, from making their escape, and, of pre- 
serving the morals of tlie planters, by the execution 
of the penal laws of England, till an Assembly should 
meet. 

These preliminaries being adjusted, the first Colo- 
ny, under his authority, came over to America, and 
began their settlement above the confluence of the 
Schuylkill witli the DelaMare. By them the Proprie- 
tor sent a letter to the Indians, informing them, that 
♦* the Great God had been pleased to make him con- 
cerned in tlieir part of the ^vorld, and that the King 
of the country where he lived had given him a great 
province therein, but, that he did not desire to enjoy it 
without their consent, that he was a man of peace, 
and that the people whom he sent were of the same 
disposition; but if any difference should happen be- 
tween them, it might be adjusted by an equal number 
of men, chosen on both sides." "VViththis letter, he 
appointed Commissioners to treat v^ith the Indians, 
about ])urchasing land, and promiised them, that he 
would shortly come 3nd coiivcrse Avith them in per- 
son.* 

The next spring he co'^pleted a frame of govern- 
ment (April 25, 1682) with the express design "to 
support jiower in reverence M'ith tlie people, and to 
secure the jieople from the abuse of power." It is 
prefaced with a long discourse on tlie nature, origin, 
use and abuse of government ; which shews that he 
had not only v.ell studied the subject, but that he v/as 
fond of displaying liis knowledge. 

To this frame of government was subjoined a body 
of fundamental laws, agreed upon by Penn and the ad- 

ven- 

^ About this time (Nov. 1681) he was elected a fellow of 
the Royal Society. 



W.PENN. 113 

venturers in London, which respected moral, political 
and economical matters; which were not to be altered 
but by the consent of the (iovernor, or his heirs, and 
six parts in seven of the freemen, met in Provincial 
Council and Assembly. In this code we find that ce- 
lebrated declaration, which has contributed more than 
any thing else to the prosperity of Pennsylvania, viz. 
'^ That all persons living in tlie province, who confess 
and acknowledge the one almiglity and eternal God, 
to be the creator, upholder and ruler of the world, and 
hold themselves obliged in conscience to live peacably 
and justly in civil society, shall in no ways be molested 
for tiieir religious persuasion or practice, in matters of 
faitli and worship, nor shall they be compelled at any 
time to frequent or n:iaintain jvny religious worship, 
place or ministry whatever." To which was added 
another equally conducive to the welfare of society : 
" That according to the good example of the primi- 
tive Christians, and the ease of the creation, every 
first day of the week called the Lord's Day, people 
shall abstain from their common daily labour, that 
they may the better dispose themselves to worship 
God, according to their understandings." 

These laws were an original compact between the 
Governor and the Freemen of the colony. They ap- 
pear to be founded in wisdom and equity, and some 
of them have been copied into the Declaration of 
Rights prefixed to several of the present Republican 
Constitutions in America. The system of govern- 
ment which Penn produced has been regarded as an 
Utopian project ; but tho' in some parts visionary and 
impracticable, yet it was liberal and popular, calcu- 
lated to gain adventurers with a prospect of Republican 
advantages. Some of its provisions, particularly the 
rotation of the Council, have been adopted by a vei^ 
enlighterid body of American legislators, after the ex- 
piration of axentury. The experiment is now in o- 
peration, and without experiment nothing can be fairly 
decided in the pofllical, any more than in the physical 

\vorId. 

Hav, 



114 W.PENN. 

Having by the help of Sir William Jones, and othe^' 
gentlemen of the loni^ robe, constructed a plan of go" 
vernment for his colony, INIr. Penn prepared to make 
the voyage to America, that he might attempt the 
execution of it. 

At this time, the penal laws against Dissenters were 
executed with rigour in England, which made many 
of the Quakers desirous of accompanying or follovflng 
Penn into America, where they had u prospect of the 
most extensive liberty of conscience. Having chosen 
some for his particular companions, he embarked with 
them in August, 1682, and from the Downs, where 
the ship lay waiting for a Avind, he wrote an alfection- 
ate letter to his friends, V\iiich he called " a farevvell 
to England." After a pleasant passage of six weeka, 
they came within sight of the American coast, and 
were refreshed by the land breezes at the distance of 
12 leagues. As the ship sailed up the Delaware, the 
inhabitants came on board, and saluted their new Go- 
vernor with an air of satisfaction. He landed at 
Newcastle, and summoned the people to meet him, 
when possession of the soil was given him in the 
legal form of that day, and he entertained them 
with a speech, explaining the purpose oi his coming, 
and the views of his government, assuring them of 
liis intention to preserve civil and religious liberty, and 
exliorthig them to peace and sobriety. Having renev*-- 
ed the tonimisions of their former Magistrates, he 
went to Chester, where he repeated the same things, 
and received their congratulations. The Swedes ap- 
pointed a Delegate to compliment him on his arrival, 
and to assure him of their affection and fidelity, 

Tln^ee principal objects engaged the attention of 
Mr. Penn ; one was to unite the territory with the 
pix)vince, another w as to enter into a treaty with the 
Indians, and a third was to lay out a capital city. 

jMr. Penn's great object was to treat with the na- 
tives. The bencAolence of his disposition led him to 
exercise great tenderness toward them, which was 
much increased by an opinion which he had fomnedj 

and 



W.PENN. iij 

and which he openly avowed, tiiat they were descend- 
ants of the ten dispersed tribes of Israel. He travel- 
led into the country, visited them in their cabins, was 
present at their feasts, conversed with them in a free 
and familiar manner, and gained their affections by 
his obliging carriage, and his frequent acts of gene- 
rosity. But on public occasions, he received them 
with ceremony, and transacted business with solemni- 
ty and order. 

Ln one of his excursions in the winter, he found 
a chief warrior sick, and his wile preparing to sweat 
him in the usual manner, by pouring water on a heap 
of hot stones, in a closely covered hut, and then plung- 
ing him into the river, thro' a hole cut in the ice. To 
divert himself during the sweating operation, tlie 
Chief sang the acheivements of his ancestors, then 
his own, and concluded his song with this reflection : 
** Why are we sick, and these strangers well ? It 
seems as if they were sent to inherit the land in om^ 
stead ! Ah ! it is because they love the Great Spririt, 
and we do not!" The sentiment was rational, and 
such as often occurred to the sagacious among the na- 
tives: We cannot suppose it was disagreeable to Mr. 
Penn, whose view was to impress them with an idea 
of his honest and pacific intentions, and to make a 
fair bargain with them 

Some of their Chiefs made him a voluntary present 
of the land which thev claimed, others sold it at a sti- 
pulated price. The form of one of these treaties is 
thus described in a letter which he wrote to his friends 
in England. " The King sat in the middle of a half- 
moon, and had his Council, old and wise, on each 
hand. Behind, at a little distance, sat the young ones 
in the same figure. Having consulted and resolved 
the business, the King ordered one of them to speak 
to me. He stood up, came to me, took me by the 
hand, saluted me in the name of the King, told me he 
was ordered by the King to speak to me, and that 
now it was not he that spoke, but the King, because 
what he should say w'as the King's mind. During 
the time this person was speaking, not a man of them 



xi6 W.PENN. 

Nvas observed to ^vh}spe^ or smile. M'^hen Ihc pur- 
chase Avas agreed, great promises passeil between us 
of kiiuluess and good neighbourhood, and that the 
iuighsh and Indians must live in love, as long as the 
liun gave light. Which done, another made a speech 
to the Indians in the name of all the Sachems, first 
to tell them what was done, next to charge them to 
love the C/tn'stiafiSy to live in peace wiih me and niy 
people, and that they should never do me or nu' peo- 
ple any wrong : At every sentence of which thcv 
•sliouted, and said Amen, in their own way. The 
])ay or presents 1 made them, were not hoarded by 
the particular owners, but the neighbouring Kings and 
their clans being present when the goods were brougV.t 
out, the parties chiefiy concerned consulted what and 
to whom they should give them. To every Kin j?;, 
then by the hands of a person, for that work appoint- 
ed, was a proportion sent, sorted and folded, with a 
gravity which is admirable. Then that King subdi- 
vided it in like manner among his dependants, they 
haixliy leaving themselves an equal share with one of 
their subjects." 

Mr. Penn was so happy as to succeed in his endea- 
vours to gain the good will of the Indians. They 
have frequently, in subsequent treaties many years af- 
ter, expressed great veneration for his memory, and 
to perpetuate it, they have given to the successive 
(iovernors of Pennsylvania the name of Onafi^ which 
bigniHes a Pcf!, By this name they are commonly 
known and addressed in the speeches made by the 
Six Nations in all their treaties. 

One part of his agreement with the Indians was, 
that they should sell no lands to any person but to 
himself or his agents ; another was, that his agents 
•should not occupy nor grant any lands, but those 
which were fairly purchased of the Indians. These 
stipulations Avere contirmed by subsequent acts of As- 
sembly, and every bargain made between private per- 
sons and the Indians without leave of the proprietor 
was declared void, Tl^e charter which Penn had ob- 

taij?- 



W,PENN« 117 

tained of the Crown comprehended a far jjreater ex- 
tent of territory, than it was proper for him at first to 
purchase of the natives. 

He did not think it for his interest to take any more 
nt once than he had a ])rospect of grantinjj away to 
•jcltlers. Jiiit liis colony increased beyond Ins expec- 
tation, and when new tracts were wanted the Indians 
rose in their demands. His first purchases were made 
at his own expence, and the ^oods delivered on these 
t)cca3ions went by the name of presents. In course 
of lime, when a treaty and a purchase went on toge- 
tlicr, the Ciovernor and his successors made the 
speeches, and the Assembly were at the expence of 
the presents. When one paid the cost, and the other 
enjoyed the i)rofjt, a subject of alteifcation arose be- 
tween the Proprietary and the popular interests, whicii 
other causes contributed to increase and inflame. 

Mr. Penn easily foresaw that the situation of his 
province, and the liberal encouragement which he had 
given to settlers, would draw people of all denomina- 
tions thither, and render it a place of commerce ; he 
therefore determined to lay the plan of a capital city, 
which, in conformity to his catholic and pacific ideas, 
he called Philadelphia. The scite of it was a neck 
of land between the river Delaware on the east, and 
Die Schuylkill ( Hidivc^ Creek-) a branch on the west, 
?in<\ he designed that the cityshould extend from one to 
the other, the distance being two miles. This spot 
was chosen on account of the firm soil, the gentle ri- 
sing from each river towards the midst, the numerous 
sfHJngs, the convenience of coves capable of being 
used as docks, the depth of water for ships of burden, 
and the good anchorage. The ground was surveyed, 
rmd a plan of the intended city was drawn by 'i'homas 
ilolme, surveyor-general. Ten streets, of two miles 
in length, were laid out from river to river, and 
twenty streets of one mile in length, crossing 
them at right angles. Four squares were reserved 
for common purposes, one in each quarter of the ci- 
ty, and in the centre, on the most elevated spot, was a. 

larg- ... 



ii8 W.PENN. 

larger square of ten acres, in which were to be built a 
State-house, a market-house, a school-house, and a 
place of worship. On the side of each river it was in- 
tended to build wharves and ware-houses, and from 
each front street nearest to the rivers, an open space 
was to be left, in the descent to the shores, which 
would have added much to the beauty of the city.* 
All owners of 1000 acres were entitled to a city-lot in 
the front streets, or in the central high street, and be- 
fore each house was to be an open court, planted with 
rows of trees. Smaller purchasers were to be accom- 
modated in the other streets ; and care was taken in 
all, that no building should encroach on the street 
lines. 

The city was begun in 1682, and within less than a 
year, •■' 80 houses and cottages were built, wherein 
merchants and mechanics exercised their respective 
occupations ;" and they soon Ibvuid the country around 
them so well cultivated by the planters, as to afibrd 
them bread and vegetables, while the venison, fowl, 
and fish made an agreeable variety with the salted pro- 
visions which they imported. Penn himself writes, 
with an air of chearfulness, that he was well content- 
ed with the country, and tlie entertainment which he 
found in it. This letter is among his printed works, 
and, in the same collection, we find an aifectionate ad- 
dress to the people of Pennsylvania ; in it he appears 
to have a tender concern for their monil and religious 
improvement, and warns them against the teniptations 
to which they were exposed. Their circumstances 
were indeed peculiar ; they had sufTcred contempt and 
persecution in Fngland, and vere now at rest, m the 
enjoyment of TI '^rty, under a pojrular form of govern- 
ment ; the of the world were upon then. ; their 
former enemies anc \\atrhlng their conduct, ainl 
would Jiave been gh^d of an opportunity to reproacli 
them ; it was therefore his desire that they should be 

mo- 

* This plan has not been adhered to, unfortunately hot:-, 
for the beauty and the health of the city, particularly abcuc 
Front and "Water rtrcots. 



W.PENN. 119 

moderate in prosperity, as they had been patient in ad- 
versity. The concluding ■words of this address may 
give us a specimen of his style and manner of preach- 
ing. " My friends, remember that the Lord hath 
brought you upon the stage ; he hath now tried you 
with liberty, yea, and with power; he hath put pre- 
cious opportunities into your hands ; have a care of a, 
perverse spirit, and do not provoke the Lord by doing 
those things by which the inhabitants of the land, that 
were before, you, grieved his spirit ;* but sanctify God, 
the living God in your hearts, that his blessing may 
fall and rest as the dew of heaven on you and your off- 
spring. Then shall it be seen to the nations, that 
there is no inchantment against Jacob, nor divination 
against Israel ; but your tents shall be goodly, and 
your dwellings glorious." 

In the spring of 1683, a second Assembly was held 
in the new city of Philadelphia, and a great number 
of laws were passed. Among other good regulations, 
it was enacted, that, in order to prevent law-suits, 
three arbitrators, called peace -makers, should be chosen 
by every County Court, to hear and determine small 
differences between man and man. This Assembly 
granted to the Governor an impost on certain goods 
exported and imported, which he, after acknowledging 
their goodness, was pleased, for the encouragement of 
the traders, " freely to remit." Fjut the most distin- 
guished act of this Assembly was, their acceptance of 
another frame of government, which .the proprietor 
had devised, which was <' in part conformed to the 
first, in part modified according to" the Act of Settle- 
meet, and in part essentially did'erent from both." 

The most material alterations were the reducing the 
number of the Assemljiy from 72 to 54, and the giv- 
ing the Governor .». negative, in lieu of a treble voice 
in acts of legisl :anidur' acceptance 

of this second charter was a proof of his great ascen- 
dency over them, and the confidence which they placed 

in 

* Probably alhicllng to the Ten Tribes of Ifrael, from whom 
he iuppofes the Indians to be, defcended. 



I20 W.PENN. 

in him ; but these changes were regarded by sonie as 
a departure from the principles on which the original 
compact was grounded. 

The state of the province at this time has been com- 
pared to that of " a father and his family ; the latter 
united by interest and affection, the former revered 
for the wisdom of his institutions, and the indulgent 
use of his authority. Those who were ambitious of 
repose found it in Pennsylvania, and as none returned 
with an evil report of the land, numbers followed. All 
partook of the leaven which they found ; the commu- 
nity wore the same equal face ; no one aspired, no one 
was oppressed ; industry was sure of profit, knowledge 
of esteem, and virtue of veneration." When we con- 
template this agreeable picture, we cannot but lament 
that Mr. Penn should ever have quitted his province ; 
but, after residing in it about two years, he found him- 
self urged, by motives of interest as well as philan- 
thropy, to return to England. At his departure, in 
the summer of 1684, his capital city, then only of two 
years standing, contained nearly 300 houses, and 2000 
inhabitants ; besides which, there were 20 other set- 
tlements begun, including those of the Dutch and 
Swedes. He left the administration of government in 
the hands of the Council and Assembly, having ap- 
pointed five commissioners to preside in his place. 

The motives of his return to England were two : 
A controversy with Lord Baltimore, the proprietor of 
Maryland, concerning the limits of their respective pa- 
tents ; and a concern for his brethren, who were suf- 
fering by the operation of the penal laws against Dis- 
senters from the established Church. 

The controversy with Lord Baltimore originated in 
the construction of " the 40th degree of latitude," 
which Penn's heirs contended was the beginningy and 
Baltimore's the comiiletion of the 40th degree, the dii- 
ference being 69 miles and a half.* 

The 

* For the particulars of this controverfy, and its final de- 
cifionby Lord Chancellor Hardwick in 1750, fee Douglas's 
Summary II. 309, and Vefey's Reports T. 444- 



W.PENN. lit 

The other cause of Mr. Perm's departure for Eng- 
land proved a source of much greater vexation, and 
involved consequences injurious to his reputation and 
interest. His concern for his suffenng brethren indu- 
ced him to use the interest which he had at Court for 
their relief. He arrived in the month of August, and 
the death of Charles, which happened the next Fe- 
bruary brought to the throne James H. under whom, 
when Lord High Admiral, Penn's father had com- 
manded, and who had always maintained a steady 
friendshipw ith the son. This succession rather in- 
creased than diminished his attachment to the Court ; 
but as James openly professed himself a Papist, and 
the prejudices of a great part of the nation against 
him were very high, it was impossible for his intimate 
friends to escape the imputation of being popishly af- 
fected. Penn had before been suspected to be a Jesuit, 
and what nov/ contributed to fix the stigma upon him. 
was, his writing a book on "the liberty of conscience," 
a darlinp; principle at Court, and vindicating the Duke 
of Buckingham, who had written on the same subject. 
Another circumstance which strengthened the suspi- 
cion was, his taking lodgings at Kensington, in the 
neighbourhood of the Court, and his frecjuent at- 
tendance there, to solicit tlie liberation of his brethren 
who now filled the prisons of the kingdom. 

He endeavoured to allay these suspicions by pub- 
lishing an address to his brethren, in which he refers 
to their knowledge of his character, principles and 
writings, for 18 years past, and expresses his love of 
moderation, and his wish that the nation might not 
become " bariiarous for Christianity, nor abuse one 
another for God's sake." But what gave him the 
greatest pain was, that his worthy friend Docter Tillot- 
son had entertained the same suspicion, and expres- 
sed it in his conversation. To him he wrote an ex- 
postulary Ifetter, and the Doctor frankly owned to hiin 
the ground of his apprehension, which Penn so fully 
removed, that Doctor Tillotson candidly acknowledged 
his mistake, and made it his business on all occasions 

G to 



lai W.PENN. 

to vindicate Penn*s character.* Tliis ingenuous ac- 
knowledgement from a gentleman of so much infor- 
mation, and so determined an enemy to Popery, is 
one of the best evidences which can be had of Mr. 
I'enn's integrity in this respect ; but the current of 
popular prejudice was at that time so strong, tliat it 
was not in the power of so great and good a man as 
-Dr. Tillotson to turn it. 

Had Mr. Penn fallen in with the discontented part 
of the nation, and encouraged the emigration of those 
>vho dreaded the consequences of K.ing James's open 
profession of Popery, he might have made large ad- 
ditions to the number of his colonists, and greatly 
increased his fortnne, but he had received such assur- 
ances from the King, of his intention to introduce 
universal toleration, that he thought it his duty to wait 
for the enlargement which his brethren must experi- 
ence from the expected event. His book on liberty 
of conscience, addressed to the King and Council, 
had not been published many days, before the King 
issued a general pardon, and instructed the Judges of 
Assize on their respective circuits to extend the bene- 
fit of it to the Quakers in particular. In consequence 
of this, about 1500 who had been confined in the pri- 
sons, were set at liberty. This was followed by a de- 
claration for liberty of conscience, and for suspending 
tne execution of the penal laws against Dissenters, 
which was an occasion of great joy to all denomina- 
tions of them. The Quakers, at their next general 
meeting, drew up an address of thanks to the King, 
which was presented by Mr. Penn. 

The declaration of indulgence, being a specimen 
of that di'ifiensing fiQiver^ which the House of vStuart 
"were fond of assuming, and being evidently intended 
to favour the fiee exercise of the Popish leligion, gave 
an alarm to ihe nation, and caused very severe cen- 
sures on those, who having felt the benefit* of it, liad 

ex- 

• Thefe letters, which do honour to both the writers, are 
printed in the firll volume of Penn's works, and in the J3io- 
graphia Britannica. 



W,PENN. 123 

expressed their gratitude in terms of alTectlon and re- 
spect. The Quakers in particular became very ob- 
noxious, and the prejudice against Penn as an abettor 
of the arbitrary maxims of the Court, v/as mcreased, 
though on a candid view of the matter, (here is no 
evidence that he sought any thing more Xlu-.n an im- 
partial and universal liberty of conscience.* 

It is much to be regretted, that he iiad not taken 

this critical opportunity to return to Pennsylvania. 

His controversy with Lord Baltimore had been decid- 
ed by the Council, and his pacific principle ought to 
have led him to acquiesce in their determination, as 
did his antagonist. Pie had accomplished his purpose 
with regard to his brethren the Quakers, who, being 
delivered from their difficulties, were at liberty either 
to remain in the kingdom, or follow him to America. 
The state of the province was such as to require his 
presence, and he might at this time have resumed 
his office, and carried on his business in l^^ennsylvania, 
with the greatest probability of spending the remain-, 
der of his days there in usefulness and peace. 

The Revolution which soon followed, placed him 
in a very disagreeble situation. liaving been a friend 
to James, Ijc was supposed to be an enemy to Wil- 
liam. As he was walking one day in White-hall, he 
was arrested and examined by the Lords in Council 
before whom he solemnly declared, " That he loved 
his country and the Protestant religion above his life 
and that he had never acted against either ; but that 
King James had been his friend and his father's 
friend, and chat he thouglit himself bound in justice 
and gratitude to be a friend to him." He was obliged 
to find securities for his appearance at the next term 

and, 

* '• If an univeHal chanty, if the aflerting an impartial li- 
berty of confcience, if doing to others as one wouhi be done 
by, and an open avowing and iteady practifmg of theie things, 
in all times, and to all parties, will juUly lay a man under the 
refieaion of being tx Jesuit ox Papifi, I m'uft not only fubmit to 
the char after, but embrace it;, and I can bear it with more 
pleafure than it is poflible for them with any juftice to give it 
10 me." Fenji's Let. to Sec. Popple, 0€t. 24, i6S8. 



124 W.PENN. 

and thence lo the succeeding term, in the last day of 
which, nothing' having heen spccitically laid to his 
charge, he was acquitted. 

The next year (1990) he was taken up again, on 
suspicion of liolding correspondence witli the exiled 
King, The Lords re(iuiring seciu'ities ibr his appear- 
-aece, he appealed to King William in person, who 
was inclined to accpiit him ; but, to please some of 
the Council, he was, for a while, held to bail, and 
then acquitted. 

Soon after this, his name was inserted in a procla- 
mation, wherein 18 Lords, and others, were charged 
with adhering to the enemies of the kingdom ; but no 
evidence appearing against him, he was a third time 
acquitted by the C\)urt of King's Bench. 

Being noAv at liberty, he meditated a return to Penn- 
sylvania, and published proposals for another emigra- 
tion of settlers. He had proceeded so far as to obtain 
from the Secretary of Slate an order for a convoy ; 
but his voyage was prevented by a fourth accusation, 
on the oath of a person whom the Parliament, after- 
ward, declared a cheat and impostor. A warrant was 
issued for apprehending him, and he narrowly escaped 
an arrest, at his return fiom the funeral of liis friend 
George Fox, on the 16th of January 1691. He then 
thought it prudent to retire, and, accordingly, kept 
himself concealed for two or three vears, durinir 
which time he employed himself in writing several 
pieces, one of which, entitled, ^' Maxims and Keilee- 
tions relating- to tlie Conduct of Humiui Life," being 
the result of mr.ch observation and experience, has 
been much celebrated, and has passed through sevei'al 
editions. In 1693, by the mediation of several per- 
sons of rank, he was admitted to appear before the 
King in Council, where he so maintained his inno- 
cence of what had been alledged against him, that he 
was a fourth time honourably acquitted. 

The true cause of these frequent suspicions was the 
conduct of his wife, who being passionately attached 
io the Queen, consort of James, made a practice to 

visit 



W.PF.NN. 125 

\isit her at St. Germain's eveiy year, ana to carry to 
her such presents as she could collect from t!ie Iriends 
of the unhappy royal family . Thouii;h there was no 
])olitical connexion or correspondence between Penn's 
fainily and the King's, yet this circumstance gave co- 
lour to the jealousy which had been conceived ; but 
the death of his wife, which happened in February, 
1694, put an end to all these suspicions. lie married 
a second wife in- 1696, a dau'^hter of Thomas Callow- 
hill, of Bristol, by whom he had four sons and one 
dautj;hter. 

By his continual exi)enses, and by the peculiar diffi- 
culties to which he had been exposed, he had run him- 
self deeply into debt. He had lost 7000/. before the 
Revolution, a.]id 4000/. since, besides his paternal es- 
tate in Ireland, valued at 450/. per annum. To repair 
his fortune, he recpiested his friends in Pennsylvania, 
that 100 of them would lend him 100/. each, for some 
years, on landed security. This, he said, would en- 
able h'm to return to America, and bring a large num- 
ber of inhabitants with him. What answer was given 
to this request does not appear ; but, from his remain- 
ing in England six or seven years after, it may be con- 
cluded that he received no encouragement of this kind 
from them. The low circumstances of the lirst set- 
tlers must have rendered it im[)0ssible to comply with 
such a request. 

Pennsylvania had experienced many inconveniences 
from his absence. The Provincial Co\mciI, having no 
steady hand to hold the balance, had fallen into a con- 
troversy respecting their several powers and privileges, 
and Moore, one of the j^roprietary officers, f.ad been 
impeached of high misdemeanors. Disgusted with 
their disputes, and dissatisfied with the Constitution 
^vllich he had framed and altered, Penn wrote to his 
Commissioners (1686), to require its dissolution; but 
the Assembly, perceiving the loss of their, privileges, 
and of the rights of the people, to be involved in fre- 
quent innovations, opposed tlie surrender. The Com- 
missioners themselves were soon after removed by the 

Pro- 



126 AV.PENN. 

Fiopiictor, who appoinictl for his Deputy John Black- 
Avell, an ollicer trained under Cron\weil, and complctc- 
}y versed in the arts of intrigue. 

lie bep;an his administration in December, 1688, 
by a display of the power of the Proprietor, and by 
cndeavouiinij to sow discord among the freemen. 
Una wed by his insolence, they were tirm in defence 
of their privileges, whilst, at the same time, they made 
a profession of peace and obedience. He imprisoned 
the Speaker of the Assembly, which had impeached 
Moore, and, by a variety of artiiices, evaded the grant- 
ing an Habeas Corpus. He delayed as long as possi- 
ble the meeting of a new Assembly, and when they 
entered on the subject of grievances, he prevailed on 
some of the members to withdraw from their seats, 
that there might not be a quorum. The remainder 
voted that his conduct was treacherous, and a strong 
prejudice was conceived not only against the Deputy, 
but the Proprietor who had appointed him. The pro- 
vince also fell under the royal displeasure. Their 
laws had not been presented for approbation, and the 
new King and Queen had not been proclaimed in Penn- 
^- sylvania for a long time after their accession ; but the 
administration of government was continued hi the 
name of the exiled Monarch. At what time the al- 
teration >vas made we cannot be certain ; but in the 
year 1692, the King and Queen took the government 
of the colony into their own hands, and appointed Col. 
Fletcher Governor of New-York and Pennsylvania, 
with equal powers and prerogatives in both, without 
any reference to the charter of Pennsylvania. 

It being a time of war between England and France, 
and the province of New-York being much exposed 
to the incursions of the Indians in the French hiterest, 
the principal object which Fletcher had in view, was, 
to procure supplies for the defence of the country, 
and the support of those Indians who were in alliance 
with the English. The Assembly insisted on a con- 
fu'mation of their laws, as a condition of their grant- 
ing a supply, to which he consentetl, " during the 

King's 



W.PENN. 127 

King's pleasure." They would have gone farther, 
and demanded a redress of grievances, but Fletcher 
having intimated to them that the King might proba- 
bly annex them to New-York, and they knowing them- 
selves unable to maintain a, controversy with the Crown, 
submitted, for the present, to iiold their liberties by 
courtesy, and voted a supply* On another application 
of the same kind, they nominated Collectors in their 
bill, which he deemed inconsistent with his preroga- 
tive, and, after some altercations, dissolved them. 

In 1696, William Markham, Deputy-Governor un- 
der Fletcher, made a similar proposal, but could ob- 
tain no supply till an expedient was contrived to save 
their privileges. A temporary act of settlement was 
passed, subject to the confirmation of the Proprietor, 
and then a grant was made of 300/. but as they had 
been represented, by some at New- York, as having act- 
ed inconsistently with their principles, in granting mo- 
ney to maintain a war, they appropriated this grant to 
" the relief of those friendly Indians who had suffer- 
ed by the war." The request was repeated every 
year, as long as the war continued; but the infancy, 
poverty and embarrassments of the province were al- 
leged for non-compliance. The peace of Ryswick, in 
1698, put an end to these requisitions. 

Thus, the province of Pennsylvania, as well as its 
Proprietor, experienced n^any inconveniences during 
their lonp; separation of 15 years; and it is somewhat 
singular to remark, that, whilst they were employed 
in an ineffectual struggle with the royal Governor and 
his Deputy, he, whom Montesquieu styles the Ame- 
rican Lycurgus, was engaged in his darling work of 
religious co'.'itroversy, and of itinerant preaching thro' 
England, Wales and Ireland. 

In August, 1699, he em!)arked with his family, and 
after a tedious passage of three months, arrived in 
Pennsylvania. IJy reason of this long voyage, they 
escaped a pestilential distemper which, during that 
time, raged in the colony. 

He 



3 28 W.PENN. 

He did not find the people so tractable as before. 
Their minds were soured by his long absence, by the 
condud of his Deputies and the royal Governors ; their 
system of laws was incomplete, and their title to their 
lands insecure. After much time spent in trying their 
tempers, and penetrating their views, he found it most 
adviseable to listen to their remonstrances. Five ses- 
sions of Assembly were held during his second resi- 
dence with them; his expressions in his public speech- 
es were soothing, and he promised to do every thmg 
iii his power to render them happy. They requested 
of him that, in case of his future absence, he would 
appoint for his Deputies men of integrity and profierty^ 
"who should be invested with full powers to grant and 
confirm lands, and instructed to give true measure ; 
and that he would execute such an instrument as would 
secure their privileges and possessions. To these re- 
quests he seemed to consent, and with the most flat- 
tering complaisance desired them to name a person 
for his substitute, which they, with equal politeness, 
declined. 

In May, 1700, the Charter was surrendered by 
six parts in seven of the Assembly, under a solemn 
promise of restitution with such alterations and amend- 
ments as should be found necessary. When a new 
Charter was in debate, the repres^entatives of the 
lower counties wanted to obtain some privileges pe- 
culiar to themselves, which the others were not wil- 
ling to allow. The members from the territory there- 
fore refused to join, and thus a separation was made 
of the provmce of Pennsylvania from the three lower 
counties. 

In this new Charter, the people had no voice in the 
election of Counsellors ; whqever afterwards served 
in this capacity, were appointed by the proprietor, but 
they had no power of legislation. The executive was 
vested solely in him, and he had a negative on all their 
laws. On the other hand, the Assembly had the right 
of originating laws, which before had been prepar- 
ed for their deliberation. The number of mem- 
bers 



W.PENbJ. 12V 

bers was four from each county, and more if the Gor- 
ernor and Assembly should agree. They were invest- 
ed with all the powers of a legislative body, according* 
to the rights of English subjects, and the practice of 
other American colonies. The privileges before grant- 
ed were confirmed, and some of their most salutary 
law3 were included in the body of the Charter ; all 
of which were declared irrevocable, except by consent 
of 6-7 ths of the Assembly with the Governor ; but the 
clause respecting liberty of conscience was declared 
absolutely irrevocable. A provisional article was ad- 
ded, that if in three years, the representatives of the 
province and territories should not join in legislation, 
each county of the province might choose eight per- 
sons, and the city of Philadelphia twH:>, to represent 
them in one Assembly, and each county of the terri- 
tory the same number to constitute another Assembly. 
On the 28th of October 1701, this Charter was ac- 
cepted by the representatives of the province ; previ- 
ous to which (viz. on the 25th) the city of Philadel- 
phia was incorporated by another Charter, and the 
government of it committed to a Mayor and Record- 
er, eight Aldermen, and twelve Common Councilmen. 
The persons in each of these offices were appointed 
by name in the Charter, who were empowered to 
choose successors to themselves annually, and to add 
to the number of Aldermen and Common Council- 
men so many of the freemen as the whole Court 
should think proper. 

Tiiese two charters were the last public acts of Mr. 
Penn's personal administration in Pennsylvania. They 
were done in haste, and while he was preparing to re- 
embark for England, which he did immediately on 
signing them. The cause of his sudden departure 
was an accoimt which be had received, that a bill was 
about to be brought into Parliament, for reducing the 
proprietary and chartered governments to an immedi- 
ate dependence on the Crown. In his speech to the 
Assembly, he inlimatefl his intention to return and 
settle jimon^- them with his ftvmilv ; but this proved 

O 2 ' 19 



130 W.PENN. 

to be his last visit to America. He sailed from Phi- 
ladelphia in the end of October, and arrived in Eng- 
land about the middle of December, 1701. The bill 
in Parliament, which had so greatly alarmed him, was, 
by the solicitation of the friends of the colonies, post- 
poned, and finally lost. In about two months, Kins/; 
William died, and Queen Anne came to the throne, 
which brought Penn again into favour at Court, and in 
the name of the society of which he was at the head, 
presented to her an address of congratulation. 

He then resumi^d his favourite employment of writ- 
ing, preaching, and visiting the societies of Friends in 
England, till the year 1707, when he found himself 
involved in a suit at law with the executors of a person 
who had formerly been his steward. The cause was 
attended with such circumstances, that, though many 
thought him ill used, the Court of Chancery did not 
give him relief, which obliged him to live within the 
rules of the Fleet Prison for about a year, till the 
matter was accommodated. After this, lie made ano- 
ther circuitous journey among his friends, and in the 
year 1 7 10 took a handsome seat at RushcomUe in Buck- 
inghamshire, where he resided dunng the remainder 
of his life. 

His infirmities and misfortunes increased with his 
age, and unBtted him for the exercise of his beloved 
work, hi 1711, he dictated a preface to the journal of 
his old friend John Banks, which was his last printed 
work. The next year, he was seized with a paralytic 
disoixk^r, which impaired his memory. For three 
succeeding years he continued in a state of great de- 
bility, but attended the meeting of Friends at Read- 
ing, as long as he was able to ride in his chariot, an(4 
sometimes spake short and weighty sentences, beinc; 
incapable of pronouncing a long discourse. Approach- 
ing, by gradual decay, to the close of life, he died on 
the 30th of July, 1718, in the 74th year of his age, 
and was buried in his family tomb, at Jordan's, iii 
BuclKinghamshii'c. 

Not- . 



W.PENN. ,31 

Notwithstanding his large paternal niheritance, and 
the g-reat opportunities whicli he enjoyed of accumu- 
lating property by his connexion with America,' his 
latter days were passed in a state far from aHluent. 
He was continually subject to the importunity of his 
creditors, and obliged to mortgage his estate. He 
Was on the point of surrendering his province to the 
Crown, for a valual)Ie consideration, to extricate him- 
self from debt. The instrument was preparing for 
his signature, but his deatli, which happened rather 
unexpectedly, prevented the execution of it ; and thus 
Jiis province in America descended to his po;5terity, 
who held it till the Revolution. 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.* 

I HAVE amused myself with collecting some little, 
anecdotes of my fomily. You may remembei- the 
enquiries I made when you were with me in England, 
among such of my relations as were then living, and 
the journey I indertook for that purpose. To be ac- 
quainted witli the particulars of my parentage and 
life, many of which are unknown to you, I (latter my- 
self, will allbrd the same pleasure to you as to me. 
I shall relate them upon paper ; it will be an agreea- 
ble employment of a week's uninterrupted leisure, 
which I promise myself during my present retirement 
in the country. I'herc are also other motives which 
induce me to the undertaking. Fiom the bosom of 
poverty and obscurity, in which I drew my first breath, 
and spent my earliest years, I have raised myself to 

a state 

* The young reader would do well to pay attention to tho 
hiilory of a man, who, by his indurtry, perfeverance, and 
economy, arrived to riches and honours — he is the firfl A- 
nerican Philofopher. It is true, that every man Is not born 
with a genius like Franklin ; but every man niay, and ougUt 
to be h©;icil and indullrious in his flatioii. 



132 FRANKLIN^ 

a state of opulence, and to some degree of celebrity 
in the world. A constant good fortune has attended 
ine-thro' every period of my life to my present advan- 
ced age ; and my descendants may be desirous of 
learning what were the means of which I made use, 
and which, thanks to the assisting hand of Providence, 
have proved so eminently successful. 

And here let me with all humility acknowledge, that 
to Divine Providence I am indebted tor the felicity I 
have hitherto enjoyed. It is that Power alone which 
has furnished me with the means I liave employed, 
and that has crowned them with success. My faith 
in this respect leads me to hope, tho' I cannot count 
upon it, that the Divine goodness will still be exercis- 
ed towards me, either by prolonging the duration of 
my happiness to the close of life, or by giving me for- 
titude to support any melancholy reverse which may 
happen to me as to so many others. My future for- 
tune is unknown but to Him in whose hand is our de- 
stiny, and who can make our very aiRictidns substr- 
lient to our benefit. 

One of my uncles, desirous, like myself, of collect- 
ing anecdotes of our family, gave me some notes, from 
which I have derived many particulars respecting our 
ancestors. From these i learn, that they had lived 
in the same village (Eaton, in Northamptonshire) up- 
on a freehold of about 30 acres, for tjie space, at least, 
of 300 years. How long they had residtd there prior 
to that period, my uncle had been unable to discover j 
probably ever since the institution of surnames, Avhen 
ihey took the appellation of Franklin, which had for- 
merly been the name of a particular order of indivi- 
duals.* 

This petty estate would not have sufficed for their 
subL^stence, had they not added the trade of black- 
smith, 

* As a proof that Frai^klin was anciently the common name 
of an order of men in England, iee Judge Fortefcue De (au- 
di bus leguin Angl ice, written abovtt the year 141 2, in which a 
p-.iflnge Ihews, "that by them (i.e. Franklhisy ful)llantial houfe. 
kvkU'rs) good juries nvay be fcimcd in anv part of England.'* 



FRANKLIN. 1^3 

smith, which was perpetuated in the family down to 
my uncle's time, the eldest son having been uniformly 
brouijht up to this employment ; a custom which botli 
he and my father observed with respect to their eldest 
sons. 

In the researches I made at Eaton, I found no ac- 
count of their births, marriages and deaths, earliei' 
than the year 1555, the parish register not extending 
farther back than that period. This register informed 
me, that I was the youngest son of the youngest 
branch of the family, counting five generations. My 
grandfather, Thomas, who was born in 1598, lived at 
Eaton till he was too old to continue his trade, when 
he retired to Banbury id Oxfordshire, where his son 
John, who was a dyer, resided, and with whom my 
father was apprenticed. He died, and was buried 
there: we saw his monument in 1758. His eldest 
son lived in the family house at Eaton, which he be- 
queathed, with the land belonging to it, to his oiily 
daughter, who, in concert with her husband, Mr. Fish- 
er, of Vv^ellingborough, afterwards sold it to Mr. Ested> 
the present prcvprietor. 

My grandfather had four surviving sons, Thomas, 
John, Benjamin and Josias. I shall give you such 
particulars of them as my memory will furnish, not 
having my papers here, in which you will find a more 
minute account, it they arc not lost during my ab- 
sence. 

Thomas had learned the trade of blacksmith undet' 
his father; but possessing a good natural understand- 
ing, he improved it by study, at the solicitation of a 
gentleman of the name of Puhiier, who was at that 
time tlie pnncipal inhabitant of the village, and wlio 
encouraged, in like manner, all my uncles to improve 
their minds. Thomas thus rendered himself Compe- 
tent to the functions of a country attorney, soon be- 
came an essential personage in the aL'airs of the vil- 
lage, and was one of the chief movers of every pub- 
lic enterprize, as well relative to the county, as the 
town of Northampton. A variety of remarkable inci- 
dents 



234 FRANKLIN. 

dents were told us of him at Eaton. After enjoying 
the esteem and patronage of Lord Halifax, he died 
Jan. 6, 1702, precisely four years before I was born. 
The recital that was made us of his life and character, 
by some aged persons of the village, struck you, I 
remember, as extraordinary, from its analogy to what 
you knew of myself. " Had he died," said you, "just 
four years later, one might have supposed a transftii- 
gration of souls." 

John, to the best of my belief, was brought up to 
the trade of a wool-dyer. 

Benjamin served his apprenticeship in London to a 
silk-dyer. He was an industrious man : I remember 
him well ; for, while I was a child, he joined my fa- 
ther at Boston, and lived for some years in the house 
with us. A particular affection had always subsisted 
between my father and him, and I was his god-son. 
He arrived to a great age. He left behind him two 
quarto volumes of poems in manuscript, consisting of 
little fugitive pieces, addressed to his friends. He had 
invented a short-liand, which he taught me, but having 
never made use of it, I have now forgotten it. He 
was a man of piety, and a constant attendant on the 
best preachers, whose sermons he took a pleasure in 
writing down, according to the expeditory method he 
Iiad devised. Many volumes were thus collected by 
him. He was extremely fond of politics, too much 
so, perhaps, for his situation. I lately found, in Lon- 
don, a collection which he had made of all the princi- 
pal pamphlets relative to public affairs, from the year 
1641 to 1717. Many volumes are wanting, as ap- 
pears by the scries of numbers ; but there still remain 
8 in folio, and 24 in, quarto and octavo. The collec- 
tion had fallen into the hands of a second-liand book- 
seller, who, knowing me, by liaving sold me some 
books, brought it to me. My uncle, it seems, liad 
left it behind him on his departure for America, about 
50 years ago. I found various notes of his writing iu 
the margins. 

Our humble family had early embraced the Re- 
formation. They remained faithfully attached during 

the 



FRANKLIN. 135 

the reign of Queen Mary, when they were in clanger 
of being molested, on account of their zeal against 
Popery. They had an English Bible, and, to conceal 
it the more securely, they conceived the project of fast- 
ening it, open, with packthreads across the leaves, on 
tlie inside of the lid of a close-stool. When my great- 
grand-father wished to read to his family, he reversed 
the lid of the close-stool upon his knees, and passed 
the leaves from one side to the other, which were held 
down on each by the packthread. One of the children 
was stationed at the door, to give notice if he saw the 
proctor (an ollicer of the Spiritual Court) make hia 
appearance : in that case, the lid was restored to its 
place, with the Bible concealed under it, as before.* 

The whole family preserved its attachment to the 
Church of England till towards the close of the reign 
of Charles II. when certain ministers, who had been 
ejected as non-conformists, having held conventicles 
in Northamptonshire, they were joined by Benjamin 
and Josias, who adhered to them ever after. The rest 
of the family continued in the Episcopal church. 

My father, Josias, married early in life. He went, 
with his wife and three children, to New-England, 
about the year 1682. Conventicles being at that time 
prohibited by law, and frequently disturbed, some con- 
siderable persons of his acquaintance determined to gx> 
to America, where they hoped to enjoy the free exer- 
cise of their religion, and my father was prevailed on 
to accompany them. 

My father had also, by the same wife, four children 
born in America, and ten others by a second v/ifc, 
makinq; in till seventeen. I remember to have seen 
thirteen seated together at liis table, who all arrived 
to years of maturity, and were married. I was the 
last of the sons, and the youngest child excepting 
two daughters. I was born at Boston, in New-Eng- 
land. My mother, the second wife, was Abiah Folg- 
er, daughter of Peter Folger, one of the first colonists 

of 

* The American reader will doubtlefa be thankful th.it he did 
ho: live in fwch times, or be fukje^ to fuch laws, 



136 rRANKLIN. 

of New-England, of whom Cotton Mather makes ho^ 
noiirable mention in his Ecclesiastical History of that 
province, as " a pious learned Englishman." 

My brothers were all put apprentice to different 
trades. With respect to myself, I was sent, at the 
age of eigiit years, to a grammar school. My father 
destined me for tlie Church, and already regarded me 
as the chaplain of the family. The promptitude witli 
which, from my infancy, 1 had learned to read, for I 
do not remember to have been ever without this ac- 
quirement, and the encouragement of his friends, who 
assured him that 1 should one day certainly become a 
man of letters, confirmed him in this design. My un- 
cle Benjamin approved also of the scheme, and pro- 
mised to give me all his volumes of sermons, written, 
as I have said, in the short-hand of his invention, if 
I would take the pains to learn it. 

I remained, however, scarcely a year at grammar- 
school, altho', in this short interval, I had risen from 
the middle to the head of my class, from thence to 
the class inmiediately above, and was to pass, at the 
end of the year, to the one next in order. But my 
father, burthened with a numerous family, found that 
he was incapable, without sui)jecting himself to diffi- 
culties, of providing for the expence of a collegiate 
education ; and consideririg, besides, as I heard him 
say to his friends, that persons so educated were oft- 
en poorly provided for, he renounced his hrst inten- 
tions, took me from the grammar-school, and sent me 
to a school for writing and aritl>metic, kept by a jNIr. 
George Brownwell, who was a skilful master, and suc- 
ceeded very well in his profession by employing gentle 
means only, and such as were calculated to encourage 
his scholars. Under him I soon acquired an excellent 
hand, but 1 failed in arithmetic, and made therein no 
great progress. 

At ten years of age, I was called home, to assist 
my father in his occupation, which was ihat of soap- 
boiler ar.d tallow-chandler, a business to which he had 
/served no apprenticeship, but which he embraced on 

iijs 



\ 



FRANKLIN. 137 

his arrival In New-England, because he found his own, 
that of a dyer, in too little request to enable him to 
maintain his family. I was, accordingly, employed in 
cutting the wicks, filling the moulds, taking care of the 
shop, carrying messages, &c. 

This business displeased me, and I felt a strong in- 
clination for a sea life ; but my father set his face 
against it. The vicinity of the water, however, gavd 
me frequent opportunities of venturing myself both 
upon and within it, and I soon acquired the art of 
swimming, and of managing a boat. When embark- 
ed with other children, the helm was commonly de- 
puted to me, particularly on difncult occasions ; and, 
in every other project, I v/as almost always the leader 
of the troop, whom I sometimes involved in embar- 
rassments. I shall give an instance of this, which 
demonstrates an early disposition of mind for public 
enterprises, tho' the one in question was not conduct- 
ed by justice. 

The mill-pond was terminated on one side by a 
marsh, upon the borders of which we were accustomed 
to take our stand, at high water, to angle for small 
fish. By dint of walking, we had converted the place 
into a perfect quagmire. My proposal was to erect a 
wharf that should afford us firm footing, and I point- 
ed to my companions a large heap of stones, intended 
for building a new house near the marsh, and which 
were well adapted for our purpose. Accordingly, 
when the workmen retired in the evening, I assem- 
bled a number of my play-fellows, and by labouring 
diligently, like ants, sometimes four of us uniting our 
strength to carry a single stone, we removed them all, 
and constructed our little quay. The workmen were 
surprised the next morning at not finding their stones, 
which had been conveyed to our wharf. Enquiries 
were made respecting the authors of this conveyance ; 
we were discovered, complaints were exhibited against 
us, many of us underwent correction on the part of 
our parents, and tho' I strenuously defended the utili- 
ty of the work, my father at length convinced me, that 
nothing which was not strictly honest, could be useful. 



13^ FIIANKLIN. 

It will not, perhaps, be uninteresting to yon to 
know what sort of a man my father was. Ke had an 
excellent constitution, was of a middle size, but well 
made and strong, and extremely active in whatever he 
undertook. He designed with a degree of neatness, 
and knew a little of music. His voice was sonorous 
and agreeable, so that when he sung a psalm or hymn 
with accompaniment of his violin, as was his frequent 
practice in an evening, when tiie labours of the day 
were finished, it was truly delightful to hear him. 
He was versed also in mechanics, and could, upon 
occasion, use the tools of a variety of trades. But his 
greatest excellence was, a sound un.ler3tanding and 
solid judgment in matters of prudence, both in public 
and private life. In the former, indeed, he never en- 
gaged, because his numerous family, and the medio- 
crity of his fortune, kept him unremittingly employed 
in the duties of iiis profession. But I very well re- 
member, that the leading men of the place used fre- 
quently to come and ask his advice respecting affairs 
of the town, or -of the church to which he belonged, 
and that they paid much deference to his opinion. 
Individuals were also in the habit of consulting him 
in their private alfairs, and he was often chosen arbiter 
between contending parlies. 

He was fond of having at his table, as often as pos- 
sible, some friends or well informed neighbours, ca- 
pable of rational conversation, and he was always care- 
ful to introduce \iseful or ingenious topics of discomse, 
which might tend to form the minds of his children. 
By this m.eans, he early attracted our attention to what 
was just, prudent and benelicial in the conduct of life. 
He never talked of the meats which appeared upon 
the table, never discussed whether they were well or 
ill dressed, of a good or bad flavour, high-seasoned, 
or otherwise preferable or inferior to this or that dish 
of a similar kind. Thus, accustomed, from my infan- 
cy, to the utmost inattention as to these objects, I 
have always been perfectly regardless of what kind 
of food was before me j and I pay so little attention to 

it 



FRANKLIN. 139 

it, even now, that it would be a hard matter for me 
recollect, u few hours after I had dined, of what my 
dinner had consisted. When travellmg, I have often 
particularly experienced the advantage of tliis habit ; 
for it has often happened to me to be in company with 
I)ersons who, having a more delicate, because a more 
exercised taste, have suffered in many cases consider- 
able inconvenience ; while, as to myself, I have had 
nothinj^ to desire. 

My mother was likewise possessed of an excellent 
constitution. She suckled all her ten children, and I 
never heard either her or my father complain of any 
other disorder than that of which they died ; my father 
at the age of 87, and my mother at 85. They are 
buried at Boston, where, a few years ago, I placed a 
marble over their grave. 

I continued employed in my father's trade for the 
space two years ; that is to say, till I arrived at 
twelve years of age. About this time my brother 
John, who had served his apprenticeship in London, 
having quitted my father, and being married and set- 
tled in business on his own account at Rhode-Island, 
I was destined to all appearance to supply his place 
and be a candle-maker all my life : but my dislike of 
this occupation continuing-, my father was apprehen- 
sive, that, if a m.ore agreeable one were not onered 
me, I might play the truant and escape to sea ; as, to 
his great mortihcation, my brother Josias had done. 
lie therefore took me sometimes to see masons, coop- 
ers, brazers, joiners and other mechanics^ employed 
at their v/ork, in order to discover the bent of my in- 
clination, and iix it if he could upon some occupation 
that mi Q-ht retain me on shore. 1 have since in con- 
sequence of these visits, derived no small pleasure 
from seeing skilful workmien handle their tools ; and 
it has proved of considerable benefit, to have acquired 
thereby sufficient knowledge to be able to m.ake little 
things for myself, when I have had no mechanic at 
hand, and to construct small machines for my experi- 
ments, while the idea I have conceived has been fresh 
and strongly impressed on my imagination. 



140 FRANKLIN. 

My father at length decided that I should be a cut- 
ler, and I was placed for some days upon trial with 
iny cousin Samuel, son of my uncle Benjamin, who 
had learned this trade in London, and had established 
himself at Boston. But the premium he required 
for my apprenticeship displeasing my father, I was re- 
called home. 

From my earliest years I had been passionately 
fond of reading, and laid out in books all the n)oney 
I could procure. I was particularly pleased with ac- 
counts of voyages. My hrst acquisition was Bun- 
yan's collection in small separate volumes. These I 
atterwardii sold in order to buy an historical colleclion 
%vhich consisted of small cheap volumes, amounting 
in all to about forty or fifty. My father's little library 
was principally made up of books of practical and po»- 
lemical theology. I read the greatest part of them. 
I iiave since often regretted, that at that time when I 
had so great a thirst for knowledge, more ehgible 
books had not fallen into my hands, as it was then a 
point decided that I should not be educated for the 
church. There was also among my father's books 
Plutarch's Lives, in which I read continually, and I 
still regard as advantageously employed the lime I devot- 
ed to them. I found besides a work of De Fou's, en- 
titled, an Essay on Projects, from which, perhaps, 
I derived impressions that have since influenced some 
of the principal events of my life. 

My inclination for books at last determined my fa- 
ther to make me a printer, though he had already a 
son in that profession. My brother had returned 
from England in 1717, v/ith a press and types, in or- 
der to establish a printing-house at Boston. This 
business pleased me much better than that of my 
father, though I had still a predilection for the sea.-^ 
To prevent the etfects which might result from this 
inclination, my father was impatient to see me engag- 
ed with my brother. I held back for some time ; at 
length however I suffered myself to be persuaded, 
and signed my indentures, being then only twelve 

years 



FRANKLIN. 141 

years of age. It was agreed tliat I should serve 
as apprentice to the age of 21, and should receive 
journeyman's wages only during the last year. 

In a very short time I made great proHciency in 
this business, and became very serviceable to my bro- 
ther. I had now an opportunity of procuring better 
books. The acquaintance I necessarily formed with 
booksellers' apprentices, enabled me to borrow a vo- 
lume now and then, which I never failed to return 
punctually and without injury. How olten has it hap- 
pened to me to pass the greater part of the night iu 
reading by my bed-side, when the book had been lent 
me in the evening, and was to be returned the next 
morning, lest it might be missed or v/anted ! 

At length, Matthew Adams, an ingenious trades- 
man, who had a handsome collection of books, and 
who frequented our printing-house, took notice of me. 
He invited me to see his library, and had the good- 
ness to lend me any books I was desirous of reading. 
I then took a strange fancy for poetry, and composed 
several little pieces. My brother, thinking he might 
find his account in it, encouraged me and engaged 
me to write two b^dlads. One, called the Lighthouse 
Tragedy, containing an account of the shipwreck of 
captain Worthilake and his two daughters ; the other 
was a sailor's song on the capture of the noted pirate 
called Black-Beard. They were wretched verses in 
point of style, mere blind-men's ditties. When print- 
ed, he dispatched me about the town to sell them. 
The first had a prodigious run, because the event 
was recent euid had made a great noise. 

My vanity was flattered by this success ; but my 
father checked my ex\iltation, by ridiculing my pro- 
ductions, and telling me that versiliers were always 
poor, I thus escaped the misfortune of being proba- 
bly a very wretched poet. But as the faculty of wri- 
ting prose has been of great serviceto me in the course 
of my life, and principally contributed to my advance- 
ment, I shall relate by what means-, situated as I was, 
I acquired the small skill I may possess iu that way. 

There 



142 FRANKLIN. 

There was in the town iinother young man, a great 
lover of books, o^' the name of Jol)n CoHins, with 
whom 1 was intimately connected. We frequently 
engaged in dispute, and were indeed so fond of ar- 
gumentation, that nothing was so agreeable to us as 
a war of words. 7'lns contentious temper, 1 would 
observe by the bye, is in danger of becoming a very 
bad habit, and frequently renders a man's company 
insupportable, as being no otherwise capable of in- 
dulgence than by indisciiminate contradiction. Inde- 
pendently of the acrimony and discord it introduces 
into conversation, it is often productive of dislike, and 
even hatred, between persons to whom friendship is 
indispensibly necessary. I acquired it by reading, 
while I lived with my father, in Ijook? of religious con- 
troversy. I have since remarked, that men of sense 
and good eckication, seldom fall into this error. 

Collins and I one day in an argument relative to 
the education of women, namely, whether it were 
proper to instruct them in the sciences, and whether 
they were competent to the study— Collins support- 
ed the negative, and aft^rmed that the task was 
beyond their capacity I maintained the opposite 
opinion, a little perhaps for the pleasure of disputing, 
—He was naturally more eloquent than 1 ; words flowed 
copiously from his lips ; and frequently I thought my- 
self vanquished, more by his volubility than by the 
force of his arguments. We separated without com- 
ing to an agreement upon this point ; and as we were 
not to see each other again for some time, I commit- 
ted my thoughts to pajier, niade a fair copy, and sent 
it him. lie answered, and I replied. Three or 
four letters had been written by each, when my fa- 
ther chanced to light upon my papers and read them. 
"Without entering into the merits of the cause, l)e 
embraced the opportunity of speaking to me upon 
my manner of writing. He observed, that though 
I had the advantage of my adversary in correct sinl- 
J.ing and pointing which I owed to my occupation, I 

was 



FRANKLIN. ,43 

was greatly his inferior in elegance of expression, in 
arrans^cmcnt, and perspicuity. OI' tliiy he convinced 
ine l)y several exarni)leri. I felt the justice of his 
remarks, i)ccame more attentive to langua|>e, and re- 
solved to make every elibrtto improve my style. 

Amidst these resolves an odd volume of the Specta- 
tor leli into my hands. Tliis was a publication 1 had 
never seen. 1 bought the volunie, and read it again 
and again. I was enchanted with it, thought the style 
excellent, and wished it were in my power to imitate 
it. With this view 1 selected some ol" the ];ap<r:s, 
made short summaries of the sense of each period, 
and put tiiem for a few days aside. I then, without 
looking at the book, endeavoured to restoi'ethe essays 
to their true form, and to express each tiiought at 
length, as it was in the original, employing the most 
api)ropriate words that occurred to my mind, I af- 
terwards compared my S})ectator with the orif.-inal ; I 
perceived some faults, which 1 corrected ; but I found 
that I wanted a fund of words, if I may so exi)ress 
myself, and a facility of recollecting and employing 
Ihem, which I thought I should by tluittime have ac- 
quired, had I continued to make verses. The conti- 
nual need of words of the same meaning, but of dif- 
ferent lengths, for the measure, or of dilierent sounds 
for tjie rhyme, would have obliged mc to seek for a 
variety of synonimes, and have rendered me master 
of them. From this belief, I took some of the tales 
of the Spectator, and turned them into verse; and af- 
ter a time, when I had sufiiciently forgotten tlicm, I 
wgain converted them into pi'ose. 

Sometimes, also, I mingled all my summaries toge- 
ther, and a few weeks after, endeavoured to arrange 
them in the best order, before 1 attem])tcd to form the 
periods, and comjilete the essays. This I did with a 
view of acquiring method in the arrangement of my 
thoughts. On comparing, afterwards, my perf)rm- 
ance with the original, many faults Avere apjiarent, 
which I corrected ; but I had bometimcs the satisfac- 
tion 



144 FRANKLIN. 

tion to think, that, in certiiin particulars of little im- 
portance, I had been fortunate enough to improve the 
order of thought, or the style ; and this encouraged 
me to hope that I should succeed, in time, in writing 
the Englisli language, which was one of the great ob- 
jects of my ambition. 

The time which I devoted to these exercises, and 
to reading, was the evening after my day's labour 
was tinished, the morning, before it began, and Sun- 
days, when I could escape attending Divine service. 
While I lived with my father, he had insisted on my 
punctual attendance on public worship, and I still con- 
sider it as a duty. 

When about 1 6 years of age, a work of Tryon fell 
into my hands, in which he recommends vegetable di- 
et. I determined to observe it. My brother, being a 
bachelor, did not keep house, but boarded with his 
upprentices in a neighbouring family. My refusintj 
to eat animal food was fo\md inconvenient, and I was 
often scolded for my singularity. I attended to the 
mode in which Tryon prepared some of his dishes, 
particularly bow to boil potatoes and rice, and make 
hasty puddings. I then said to my brother, that if he 
would allow me per week half what he paid for my 
board, I would undertake to maintain myself. The 
offer was instantly embraced, and I soon found that of 
what he gave me, I was able to save half. This was 
a new fund for the purchase of books, and other ad- 
vantages resulted to me from the plan. When my 
brother and his workmen left the printing-house to go 
to dinner, I remained behind, and dispatched my frugal 
meal, which frequently consisted of a biscuit only, or 
a slice of bread and a bunch of raisins, or a bun from 
the pastry-cook's, with a glass of water ; I had the 
rest of the time, till their return, for study, and my 
progress therein was proportioned to that clearness of 
ideas, and quickness of conception, which are the 
fruit of temperance in eating and drinking. 

It 



FRANKLIN. i45 

It was about this period that, having one day been 
jeut to the blush for my ignorance in the art of calcu- 
lation, which I had twice failed to learn while at school, 
1 took up Cocker's Treatise of Arithmetic, and went 
through it by myself with the greatest ease ; I also 
read a book of Navigation, by Seller and Sturmy, and 
made myself master of the little geometry it contains ; 
bu\ I never proceeded far in this science. Nearly at 
the same time, I read Locke on the Human Under- 
standing, and the Art of Thinking, by Messrs. du 
Port-Royal. 

While labouring to form and improve my style, I 
met with an Enghsh Grammar, which I believe was 
Greenwood's, having at the end of it two little essays 
on rhetoric and logic. In the latter I fo.und a model 
of disputation after the manner of Socrates. Shortly 
after I procured Xenophon's work, entitled. Memorable 
Things of Socrates, in which are various examples 
of the same method. Charmed to a degree of enthu- 
siasm with this mode of disputing, I adopted it, and 
renouncing blunt contradiction, and direct and positive 
argument, I assumed the character of a humble ques- 
tioner. I found Socrates's method to be both the saf- 
est for myself, as well as the most embarrassing to 
those against whom I employed it. . It soon afforded 
me singular pleasure ; I incessantly practised it, and 
became very adroit in obtaining, even from persons 
of superior understanding, concessions of Avhich they 
did not foresee the consequences. Tiuis J involved 
them in difficulties from which they were unable to 
extricate themselves, and sometimes obtained victo- 
ries, which neither my cause nor my arguments me- 
rited. 

This method I continued to employ for some years ; 
but I afterwards abandoned it by degrees, retaining 
only the habit of expressing myself with modest dilli- 
dence, and never making use, when I advanced any 
proposition which might be controverted, of the word< 
certainly, undoubtedly, or any others that might give 
the appearance o^I being obstinately attached to my 

H topi- 



j46 franklin. 

nion. I rather said, I inagine, I suppose, or it ap- 
pears to me that such a thing is so or so, for such and 
such reasons ; or, it is so, if I am not mistaken. This 
habit has, 1 think, been of considerable advantage to 
me, when I have had occasion to impress my opinion 
on the minds of others, and persuade them to the 
adoption of the measures I have suggested. And 
since the chief ends of conversation are, to inforan or 
to be informed, to please or to persuade, I could wish 
that intelligent and well-meaning men would not them- 
selves diminish the powers they possess of being use- 
ful, by a positive and presumptuous manner of ex- 
pressing themselves, which scarcely ever fkils to dis- 
gust the hearer, and is only calculated to excite op- 
position, and defeat every purpose for which the fa- 
culty of speech has been bestowed upon man. In 
short, if you wish to inform, a positive and dogmatical 
manner of advancing your opinion may provoke con- 
tradiction, and prevent your being heard with atten- 
tion. On the other hand, if, with a desire of being 
informed, and of benefiting by the knowledge of others, 
you express yourselves as being strongly attached to 
your own opinions, modest and sensible men, who do 
not love disputation, will leave you in tranquil posses- 
sion of your errors. By following such a, method, you 
can rarely hope to please your auditors, conciliate their 
good will, or work conviction on those whom you may 
be desirous of gaining over to your views. Pope ju- 
diciously observes, 

Men muft be taught as if you taught them not, 
And things unknown propos'd as things forgot. 

And in the same poem he afterwards advises us, 
To fpeak, tho' fure, with feeming diiBdence. 

He might have added to these lines, one that he has 

coupled elsewhere, in my opinion, with less propriety. 

It is this : 

For want of modefty is want of fenfe. 

If you ask why I say with less propriety, I must ^ivc 
you the two lines together : 

Jmmodefl words admit of no defence, 

For want of decency is want of fenfc. 



FRANKLIN. 147 

Now, want of sense, when a man has the misfortune 
to be so circumstanced, is it not a kind of excuse for 
M'ant of modesty? And would not the verses have 
been more accurate, if they had been constructed thus j 

Immodeft words admit but this defence, 

That want of decency is want of fcnfe. 

In 1720, or 1721, my brother began to print a new 
public paper. It was the second that made its ap- 
pearance in America, and was entitled the New-Eng> 
land Courant. The only one that existed before was 
the Boston News-Letter. Some of his friends, I re- 
member, would have dissuaded him from this under- 
taking, as a thing that was not likely to succeed ; a sin- 
gle news-paper being, in their opinion, sufficient for all 
America. At present, however, in 1777, there are no 
less than 25.* But he carried his project into execu- 
tion, and I was employed in distributing the copies to 
his customers, after having assisted in composing and 
working them off. 

Among his friends he had a number of literary 
characters, who, as an amusement, wrote short es- 
says for the paper, which gave it reputation and in- 
creased its sale. These gentlemen came fi^quently 
to our house. I heard the conversation that passed, 
and the accounts they gave of the favourable recep- 
tion of their writings with the public. I was tempted 
to try my hnnd among them ; but, being still a child 
as it were, I was fearful that my brother might be un- 
willing to print in hispaperany performance of which 
he should know me to be the author. 1 therefore 
contrived to disguise my hand, and having written an 
anonymous piece, I placed it at night under the door 
of the printing-house^ where it was found the next 
morning. My brother communicated it to his friends, 
when they came as usual to see him, who read it, com- 
mented iipon it within my hearing, and I had the ex- 
quisite pleasure to find that it met with approbation, 
and that, in the various conjectures they made respect- 



ing 



• In the year iSoo, it was compnted that there w^it: ^8o 
3S[ews-pauers in the United States. — See Miller's lletrofpeft, 



148 FRANKLIN. 

ing the author, no one was mentioned wlio did not 
enjoy a hic^h reputation in the couiitry for talents and 
genius. I now supposed myself fortunate in my judg- 
es, and began to suspect that they were not such ex- 
cellent writers as I had hitherto supposed them. Be 
that as it may, encouraged by this little adventure, I 
xvrote and sent to the press, in the same way many 
other pieces, which were equally approved ; keeping 
the secret till my slender stock of information and 
knowledge for such performances was completely 
exhausted, when I made myself known. 

My brother, upon this discovery, began to entertain 
0. little more respect for me ; but he still regarded 
liimself as my master, and treated me like an appren- 
tice. He thought himself entitled to the same servi- 
ces from me as from any other person. On the con- 
trary, I conceived that, in many instances, he was too 
rigorous, and that, on the part of a brother, I had a 
right to expect greater indulgence. Our disputes 
were frequently brought before my father, and either 
my brother was generally in the wrong, or I was the 
better pleader of the two, for judgment was conmion- 
ly given in my favour. But my brother was passion- 
ate, and often had recourse to blows ; a circumstance 
which I took in very ill part. This severe and tyran- 
nical treatment contributed, I believe, to imprint on 
my mind that aversion to arbitrary power, which dur- 
ing my whole life I have ever preserved. My appren- 
ticeship became insupportable to me, and 1 continual- 
ly sighed for an opportunity of shortening it, which 
at length unexpectedly olFered. 

An article hiserted in our paper, upon some politi- 
cal subjects which 1 have now forgotten, gave offence 
to the Assembly. My brother was taken into custo- 
dy, censured, and ordered into confinement for a 
month, because, as I presume, he would not discover 
the author. I was also taken up, and examined be- 
fore the Council ; but, tho' I gave them no satisfac- 
tion, they contented themselves with reprimanding, 
and then dismissed me ; considering me, probably, as 
bound, in quality oi' apprentice, to keep my master's 
seu'ets. 



FRANKLIN. 149 

The imprisonment of my brother kindled my re- 
sentment, notwithstanding our private quarrels. Dur- 
ing its continuance, the management of the paper 
was entrusted to me, and I was bold enough to insert 
some pasquinades against the governors, which high- 
ly pleased my brother, while others began to look up- 
on me in an unfavourable point of view, considering 
me as a young wit, inclined to satire and lampoon. 

My brother's enlargement was accompanied with an 
arbitrary order from the house of Assembly, " That 
James Franklin should no longer print the newspaper 
entitled The New-England Courant." In this conjunc- 
ture, we held a consultation of our friends, at the 
printing-house, in order to determine what was propc;' 
to be done. Some proposed to evade the order, by 
changing the title of the paper ; but my brother, fore- 
seeing inconveniences that would result from this step, 
thought it better that it should in future be printed in 
the name of Benjamin Franklin ; and to avoid the 
censure of the Assembly, who might charge him with 
printmg the paper himself, under the name of his ap- 
prentice, it was resolved that my old indentures should 
be given up to me, with a full and entire discharge 
written on the back, [n order to be produced upon an 
emergency ; but that, to secure to my brother the be- 
nefit of my service, I should sign a new contract, 
which should be kept secret during the remainder of 
the term. This was a very shallow arrangement. It 
was, however, carried into immediate execution, and 
the paper continued, in consequence, to make its ap- 
pearance for some inonths in my name. At length, 
a new difference arising between my brother and me, 
I ventured to take advantage of my liberty, presum- 
ing that he would not dare to produce the new con- 
tract. It was undoubtedly dishonourable to avail my- 
self of this circumstance, and 1 reckon this action as 
one of the first errors of my liie ; but I was little ca- 
pable of estimating it at its true value, embittered as 
my mind had been, by the recollection of the blows I 
Jiad received. Exclusively of his passionate treatment 

of 



I50 FRANKLIN. 

of me, my I)rother was by no means a man of an ilT 
temper, and perhaps my manners h:id too nmch of 
impertinence not to afford it a very natural pretext. 

When he knew tliat it was my determination to quit 
liim, he wished to prevent my finding employment 
elsewhere.^ He went to all the printing--houses in the 
town, and prejudiced the masters against me, who. 
according;ly refused to employ me. The idea then 
suggested itself to me of going to New-York, the near- 
est town in which there was a printing-office. Far- 
ther reflections confirmed me in the design of leaving 
Boston, where I had already rendered myself an ob- 
ject of suspicion to the governing party. It was pro- 
bable, from the arbitrary proceedings of the Assem- 
bly ia the affair of vay brother, that, by remaining, I 
should soon have been exposed to difficulties, which I 
liad the greater reas'>n to apprehend, as^ from my in- 
discreet dispfltes upon the subject of religion, I begun 
to be regarded by pious souls with horror, either as 
an apostate or an atheist. 1 came, therefore, to a re- 
solution -y. but my father, in this, instance, siding with 
my brother, 1 presumed that if I attempted to depart 
openly, measures would be taken to prevent me. My 
friend Collins undertook to favour my flight. He 
agreed for my passage with the captam of a New-York 
sloop, to whom he represented me as a young man of 
his acquaintance, who had an aflair wilh a girl of bad 
character, whose parents Avished to compel me to 
marry her, and that, of consequence, 1 could neither 
make my appearance nor go ofl* publicly. 1 sold part 
of my books to procure a small sum of money, and 
went privately on board the sloop. By favour of iv 
good wind, 1 found myself in three days at New-York, 
nearly 300 miles from my home, at the age only of 
17 years, without knowing an individual in the place, 
and with very little money in my pocket. 

The inclination I had felt for a seafaring life was 
entirely subsided, or I should now have been able to 
gratify it; but having another trade, and believing 
inyself to be a tolerable workman, I hesitated not to 

ollei: 



FRANKLIN. 151 

offer my services to the old Mr. William Rradfordt 
who had been tiie first printer in Pennsylvania, but 
had quitted that pi-ovince on account of a quarrel witli 
(ieor^e Keith, the Governor. He could not give mc 
cniployment himself, havinti; little to do, and already 
as many hands as he wanted ; but he told me, that hi* 
son, a printer at Philadelphia, had lately lost his prin- 
cipal workman, Aquila Rose, who was dead, and that, 
if 1 would ^o thither, he believed that he would eiv^ 
gage me. Philadelphia was 100 miles farther. I he- 
sitated not to embark in a boat in order to repair, by 
the shor est cut of the sea, to Amboy, leaving my 
trunk and effects to come after me by the usual and 
more tedious conveyance. In crossing the bay we met 
with a squall, which shattered to pieces our rotten sails, 
prevented us from entering the Kill, and threw us up- 
on Long-Island, 

During the squall, a drunken Dutchman, who, like 
myself, was a passenger in the boat, fell into the sea. 
I seized him by the fore-top, saved him, and drew 
liim on board. This immersion sobered him a little, 
so that he fell asleep, after having taken from his pock- 
et a volume, which he requested me to dry. This 
volume I found to be my old favourite work, Bunyan's 
Voyages, in Dutch, a beautiful impression on fine 
paper, with copperplate engravings, a dress in which 
1 had never seen it in its original language. 1 have 
since learned, that it had been trunslated into almost 
all the languages of Europe, and, next to the Bible. I 
am persusided it is one of the books which Jias had 
the greatest spread. Honest John is the first that I 
know of who has mixed narrative and dialogue toge- 
tiier; a mode of writing very engaging to the reader, 
who, in the most interesting passages, finds himself 
admitted, as it were, into the company, and present 
at the conversation. De Foe has imitated it with suc- 
cess in his Robinson Crusoe, his Moll Flanders, and 
other works. 

In approaching the island, we found thai we had 
made a part of the coast wh<:re it was not possi!>Ie to 

Und 



1J2 FRANKLIN. 

land, on account of the strong breakers "produced by 
the rocky ^hore. We cast anchor, and veered the ca- 
bJe toward tht; shore. Some men, who stood upon 
the brink, luillooed to us, while we did the same on 
our part ; but the wind was so high, and the wavts 
so noisy, that we could neither of us hear each other. 
There were some canoes upon the bank, and we call- 
ed out to them, and made signs to prevail on them to 
come and take us up; but either they did not under- 
stand us, or they deemed our request impracticable, 
and withdrew. Ni.^lrt c?rfTie on, and nothing* remain- 
ed for us but to wait the subsiding of the wind ; till 
when we determined, that is, the pilot and I, to sleep 
if possible. For that purpose, we went below the 
hatches, along with the Dutchman who was drenched 
with water. The sea broke over the boat, and reach- 
ed us in our retreat, so that we were presently as 
completely drenched as he. 

We had very little repose during the whole night ; 
but the wind abating the next day, we succeeded in 
reaching Amboy before it was dark, after having pass- 
ed 30 hours without provisions, and with no other 
drink than a bottle of bad rum, the water upon which 
we rowed being salt. In the evening I went to bed 
with a very violent fever. 1 had somewhere read that 
cold water, drank plenlifully, was a remedy in such 
cases. I followed the prescription, was in a profuse 
sweat for tlie greater part of the night, and the fever 
left me. The next day I crossed the river in a ferry- 
boat, and continued my journey on foot. I had fifty 
miles to walk, in order to reach Burlington, where I 
wus told 1 should hud passage-boats that would convey 
me to Philadelphia. It rained hard the whole day, so 
that I was wet to the skin. Finding myselt fatigued 
al)out noon, I stopped at a paltry inn, where I passed 
the rLSt of the day, and the whole night, beginning to 
regret that 1 had quitted my home. I made, besides, 
so' wretched a figure, that I was suspected to be some 
run-away servant. This I discovered by the questions 
that were asked me, and I felt that I was every mo- 
ment 



FKANKLIN, 153 

nient fn danger of being; taken up u-3 snch. The next 
day, however, I continued my journey, and arrived 
in the evening at an inn, 8 or 10 miles from Burling- 
ton, that was kept by one Dr. Brown. 

This man entered into conversation with me, while 
I took some refreshment, and perceiving that I had 
read a little, hs expressed towards m^ considerable 
interest and friendship. Our acquaintance continued 
during the remainder of his life. I beli^ive him to have 
been what is called an itinerant doctor, for there was 
no town in England, or, indeed in Europe, of which 
he could not give a particular account. 

I spent the night at his house, and reached Burling- 
ton the next morning. On my arrival, I had the 
mortincation to Isarn, that the ordinary passage-boats 
had sailed a little before. This was on a Saturday, 
and there would be no other boat till the Tuesday fol- 
lowing. I returned to the house of an old woman in 
the tov/n, who had sold ine some gingerbread to eat 
on my passage, and I asked her advice. She invited 
me to take up my abode with her till an- opportunity 
o3ered forme to embark. Fatigued with liaving tra- 
velled so far on foot, I accepted her invitation. When 
she understood that I was a printer, she would have 
persuaded me to stay at Burlington, and set up my 
trade ; but she was little aware of the capital that 
"would be necessary for such a purpose. I was treated, 
uhile at her house, With true hospitalitya She gave . 
me, with the utmost good-will, a dinner of beef-steaks, 
and would accept of nothing in return but a pint of ale. 

Here I imagined mystlf to be fixed till the Tuesday 
in the ensuing week.; but walking out in tlie evening, 
by the river side, I saw a boat, with a numbei- of per- 
sons in it, approach. It v/as going to I'hiladelphia, and . 
the company took me in. As -there was no wind, we 
could only make way with our cars. About midnight, 
not perceiving the tov/n, some of the company were 
of opinion that we must have passed- it, ai^.were un^- 
i**.iliing to row any far-ther ; the rest not kiKwing where.- 
we were, it was resolved that we should stop. Wer 



154 FH.ANKLIN. 

drew towards the shore, ci>lcrcd a crcckt and lauded 
near sojnc old palisades, wliicli served us tor lire-wood, 
it bcinjjj a cold uij^hl in October. Here we stayed till 
day, when one of llie coinpuny Ibund the \)luce in 
Avijicli we were to l)e Cooper's Creek, a little above 
Philadelphia, which in reality we perceived the mo- 
ment we were out ol'the creek. \Ve arrived on Sun- 
day abovit 8 or D o'clock in the niorniuj^, and landed 
on Market-street wharf. 

I Jiave entered into the particulars of my voyaj^e, 
and slial!, in like manner, describe my iirst entrance 
into this city, that yovi may be jible to compare be{»;in- 
ninp;s bO little auspicious, with t'le Injure I have since 
mude. 

On my arrival at Philadilphia, I was in my work- 
inj^ dross, my best clothes beiujv to come by sea. I 
was covered with dirt, my pockels were lilled with 
bhirts and stockini^s, 1 M-as unacfpiaintcd with a single 
youl in the place, and knew not where to seek for a 
IfHJi^inp;. l'utij>ucd with walking;, rowint!,-, and having 
j^assetl the nij^ht without sleep, 1 was extremely hun- 
\;Y)\ and all my money consisted of a Dutch dollar, 
and about a shiliini';'s worth of coppers, which 1 ^avc 
to the boatmen for my p:issaj;e. As I had assisted 
them i!» rowing;, ihey refused it at Iirst, but I insisted 
on their takinjj;- it. A nuui is someiinies more genc- 
ro\is when he lias little, than when he has imich mo- 
ney, jirobably because, in the lirst case, he is desirous 
of concealinj^- his poverty. 

I walked towards the to]) of the street, looking ea- 
gerly on bol!\ sides, till I came to Market-street, where 
i met a child with a louf of bread. Often had 1 made 
my dinner on dry bread. 1 intpiired where he had 
bought it, and went straight lo the baker'3 shop which 
he jiointed out to me. 1 asked for some biscuits, ex- 
peclinj;- to tind such as we had at lioston ; but they 
made, it scents, none of that sort in l^hiladelphia — 
I tJien aski;d for a 3il. loaf; they made no loaves of 
that price. l'indin|>- n\yself i)v«>orant of the prices as 
well ;is of the di;lcrcJit kinds of bread, I desired him to 
Kl iu^ hji\e uu'cv'penny worlli of bread of some kind o^ 



FRANKLIN. 155 

other. lie ^ave mc three kirge rolls. I was surj^rlze^ 
at reccivin}> so niiich ; 1 took tlienj, however, and liav- 
ini^ no room in my pockets, I walked on with a roll 
under each arm, ealinjj^ tiie third. In this manner I 
went thro' Market street to Fourth-street, and j^assed 
the house of Mr. Read, the father of my future wife. 
She was standinj^ at the door, observed me, and tho't, 
with reason, that 1 made a very singular and grotesque 
ap))earance. 

1 then turned the corner, and went thro' Chesnut- 
street, eating my roll all the way ; imd having made 
this round, I foinul myself again on Market-street 
wharf, near the boat in which 1 had arrived. I stepped 
into it to take a draught of river- water, and fniding 
myself satisfied with my first roll, I gave the otiier 
two to a woman and her cUild, who had come down 
the river with us in the boat, and was wailing to con- 
tinue her joui-ney. 'I'hus refreshed, I regained the 
street, which was now full of well dressed ]Kople, all 
going the same way. 1 joined them, and \n as tlui.s led 
to a large Quakers' meeting-house, near the market- 
place. 1 sat down with the rest, and after lookinp' 
round me for some lime, hearing nothing said, and 
being drowsy from my last night's labour and want of 
rest, I fell into a sound sleep. In this state I conti- 
nued till the assembly dispersed, when one of the con- 
gregation had the goodness to wake me. This was, 
conscjuently, the first house 1 entered, or in wiiicli I 
slept at Philadelphia. 

I began again to walk along the streets by the river 
side, and looking attentively in the face of every one. I 
met, I at length perceived a young Qnakcr, whose 
countenance pleased me. 1 accosted him, and beggrd 
him to inform me where a stranger might lind alodg- 
i/;g. Wc were tlien near the sign of the Three Ma- 
riners. 'I'hey receive travellers here, said hc» but it 
is not a house that bears a good character; if you will 
go with me, 1 will shew you a better one. lie con- 
ducted me to the Crooked Uillet, in Water-street.-— 
There 1 ordered something for dinner, and, during^ 

ray 



ir>^ FRANKLIN.- 

my meal, a number of carious questions were put to 
me ; my youth and appearance excitini^ the suspicion, 
of my being a run-away. After dinner my drowsiness, 
returned, and 1 threw myself upon a bed witliout tak- 
int^ oil' my clothes, and slept till six in the evening, 
when I was called to supper. 1 afterwards went to 
bed at a very early hour, and did not. awake till the. 
next morning. 

As soon as I got up, I put myself in as decent a. 
t4-im as I couldj and went to the house of Andrew 
Bradford, the printer. I found his father in the shop,, 
whom 1 had seen at New-York. Having travelled on 
horseback, he had arrived at Philadelphia before me. 
He introduced me to his son, who received me with, 
civility, and gave me some breskfast; but told me he 
had no occasion for a journeyman, having lately pro- 
cured one. He added, that there was another printer 
newly settled in the town, of the name of Keimer, 
who might perhaps ,emi)loy me ; and in case of a re- 
fusal, I should be welcome to lodge at his house, and 
he would give me a little work now and then, till 
.something belter should oifer. 

The old man offered to introduce me to the. new 
printer. When we were at his house, " Neighbour, 
(said he) I bring you a young man in the printing bu- 
siness, perhaps you may have need of his services." 

Keimer asked me some questions, put a comi)Osing- 
stick in ray hand to see lipvy 1 could v/ork, and then 
said, that at present he had nothing for me to do, butc 
that he sJiould soon be able to employ me. At the 
same time, taking old Bradford for an inhabitant of; 
the town well disposed towards him, he communicated 
his project to him, and the prospect he had i)f success.. 
.Bradford was careful not tQ discover that he was the 
iather of the other printer; and from what Keimer;: 
hud said, that he hoped shortly to be in possession of' 
the y^reater paj't of the busijiess. of the town, led him, 
by artful (]uestions, and by starring some ditficullies,. 
to disclose all his views, v/hatjtis hopes were founded ;i 
upon, und hqw^he intended, .to proc?;e,d^\ L vvas i)re-.. 

:>ent,. 



FRANKLI>r. 357 

sent, and heard it all. I instantly saw that one of the 
two was a cunninj^ old fox, and the other a perfect no- 
vice. Bradford left nie with ICeimer, who was stranj^c- 
ly surprised when I infurmetl him who the old man 
was. 

1 found Keimer's printing materials to consist of 
an old damaged press, and a small font of worn-out 
English letters, with which he was himself at work 
upon an elegy on Aquilu Rose, whom I have men- 
tioned ahove, an ingenious young man, and of an ex- 
cellent character, highly esteemed in the town. Secre- 
tary to the Assembly, and a very tolerable poet. Kci- . 
mer also made verses, hut they were inditlerent ones. 
He could not be said to write in verse, for his method 
was, to take and set the lines as they Howed from hid 
muse ; and, as he worked without copy, had but one 
set of lelter-cases, and the elegy would pi-obubly oc- 
cupy all his type, it was impossible for any one to as- 
sist him. I endeavoured to put his press in order, < 
which he had not yet used, and of which indeed he 
understood nothing; and having pit)mised to come and' 
work ort' his elegy as soon as it should be ready, I re- 
turned (.0 the house of Bradford, who gave me some- 
tviile to do lor the present, for which 1 had my board 
and lodging. 

in a few days. Keimer sent for me to print ofT his. 
elegy, lie had now procured another set of letter- 
cases, and had a, pamphlet to re-print, upon which he 
set me to- woik» 

The two. Philadelphia printers appeared destitute of; 
every tjuariBcation necessary in their profession. Brad- 
ford had not been hi-ought up to it, and was very ilji-. 
terate. Keimer, tho* he understood a little of the bu- 
Jiiness, was merely a compositor, and wholly incapa- 
ble of working at press. Me had read one of the French 
prophets, and knew how to imitate their sui>eniatural 
afj^ilations. At the time of our first acquaintance he 
professed no particular religion, but a little of all up. 
on occasion. He was totally ignorant of the world, 
and a great knave at heiU't, as I had afterwards an op ... 
jxjrtunity of experiencinii^, . IWkt. 



158 FRANKLINi 

Keimcr could not endure that, working; with him, I 
should lodg-e at Bradford's. He had indeed a house, 
but it was unfurnished, so that he could not take me 
in. He procured me a lodging at Mr. Read's, his 
landlord, whom t have already mentioned. My trunk 
and effects beinp^ now arrived, I thought of making, 
in the eyes of Miss Read, a more respectable appear- 
ance than when chance exhibited me to her view, eat- 
ing my roll, and wandering in the streets. 

From this period I began to contract acquaintance 
with such young people of the town as were fond of 
reading, and spent my evenings with them agreeably* 
while, at the same time, I gained money by my hi- 
dustry, and, thanks to my frugality, lived contented. 
1 thus forgot Boston as much as possible, and wished 
every one to be ignorant of the place of my residence, 
except my friend Collins, to whom 1 wrote, and who 
kept my secret. 

An incident however occuircd, which sent mc home 
sooner than 1 had proposed. 1 had a brother-in-law, 
of the name of Robert Holmes, master of u trading 
sloop from Boston to Delaware. Being at Newcastle, 
forty miles bclov/ Pliilack'lphia, he heard of me, and 
wrote to inform me ot the chagrin which my sudden 
departure from Boston had occasioned my parents^, 
and of the a'fection which they still entertained for 
me, assuring me that, if 1 would return, every thing 
should be adjusted to my satisfaction ; and he v/as ve- 
Yj pressing in his entreaties. I answered his letter, 
thanked him for his advice, and explained the reasons 
which had induced me to quit Boston, with such force 
and clearness, that he was convinced 1 had been less 
to blame than he had imagined. 

Sir William Keith, Governor of the province, was- 
at Newcastle at the time. Captahi Holmes, being by 
chance in his company when he received my letter, 
look occasion to speak of me, and shewed it liim. 
The Ciovernor read it, and appeared surpi-ised v/hcn 
he learned my age. He thought me, he said, a young 
man of very promising talents, and tliat, of conse- 
quence, 



FRANKLIN. 159 

quence, I ought to be encouraged ; that there were at 
Philadt^lphia none but very iguorant printers, and that 
if 1 were to set up for myself, he had no doubt of my 
success; that, for his own part, he would procure me 
all the public business, and .would render me every 
other service in his power. IMy brother-in-law related 
all this to me afterwards at Boston, but I knew nothint.'- 
of it at the time ; when one day, Keimer and I being 
at work together near the window, we saw the Gover- 
nor and another gentleman, Colonel French, of New- 
castle, handsomely dressed, cross the street, and make 
directly for our house. "We heard them at the door, 
and Keimer, believing it to be a visit to himself, went 
immediately down ; but the Governor inquired for 
me, came up stairs, and, with a condescension and 
politeness to which i had not at all been accustomed, 
paid me many compliments, desired to be acquainted 
Avith me, obligingly reproached me for not having 
made myself known to him on my arrival in the town, 
and wished me to accompany him to a tavern, where 
he and Colonel French were going to taste some ex- 
ccillent Madeira wine. 

1 was, 1 confess, somewhat surprized, and Keimer 
appeared thunderstruck. 1 went, however, with the 
Gov'Ci-nor and the Colonel to a tavern at the corner of 
Third-street, where, while we were drinkmg the Ma- 
deira, he proposed to me to establish a printing-house, 
lie set forth the probabilities of success, and himself 
and Colonel French assured me, that 1 should have 
tJieir protection and hiHuence in obtaining the printing 
of the public j)apers of both Governments ; and as I 
appeared to doubt whether my father would assist me 
in this enterprise, Sir William said that he would give 
vne a letter to him, in which he would represent the 
advantages of the scheme in a light which he had no 
doubt would detennine him. It was thus concluded, 
that I should return to Boston by the fa'st vessel, with 
the letter of recommendation from the Governor to 
my Ivither. Meanwhile tlie ]jroject was to be kept se- 
cret, and I continued to work for Keimer as before.. 

Tlic 



i6o, FRANKLIN. 

The Governor sent every now and then to invite me 
to dine with him. I considered this as a very great 
honour, and I was the more sensible of it, as lie con- 
versed with me in the most atlable, famihar, and 
friendly manner imaginable. 

Towards the end of April,. 1724, a small vessel was 
ready to sail for Boston. I took leave of Keimer, up- 
on the pretext of going to see my parents. The Gov« 
ernor gave me a long letter, in whicii he said many 
flattering things of me to my father, and strongly re- 
commended the project of my settling at Philadel- 
phia, as a thing which could not hiil to make my for- 
tune. 

Going down the bay, we struck on a flat, and sprung 
a leak. The weather was very tempestuous, and we 
were obliged to pump without intermission ; I took 
my turn. We arrived, however, safe and sound at 
Boston, after about a fortnight's passage. 

1 had been absent seven complete months, and my- 
relations, during that interval, had received no intel- 
ligence of me, for my brother-in-law, Holmes, was 
not yet returned, and had not written about me. My 
unexpected appearance surprised the family, but they 
were all delighted at seeing me again, and, except my 
brother, welcomed me home. 1 went to him at the 
printmg-otVice. I was btttcr.dressed than I had ever 
been while in his service ; I had a complete suit of 
clothes, new and neat, a watch in my pocket, and my 
purse was furnished with nearly 5/. sterling in money.. 
He gave- me no very civil reception,, and having eyed 
me from head to foot, resumed his work. 

The workmen asked me with eagerness where X 
had bee^v what sort of a country it was, and how I 
liked it* I spoke in the highest terms-of Philadelphia, 
the hai^-py life we led there, and expressed my inten- 
tion of going back again. . One of them asked what 
sort of money we had ; I. displayed before them a 
l;iandfulof silver,. which I drew from my pocket. , This 
v/As. a. curiosity, to which they, were not accustomed, . 
3>j?p,tii', being the,, cuiTeut ntoney at Boston. . I. failed-* 

Mil. 



FRANKLIN. i64 

ttot after this to let them sec ray watch ; and at histy 
my brother continuing sullen and out of humour, I 
gave them a shilling- to drink, and took my leave* 
This visit stung my brother to the soul, for when,, 
sliortly after, my mother spoke to him of a reconcili- 
ation, and a desire of seeing us upon good terms, ho 
told her that I had so insulted him before his men, 
that he never would forget or forgive it j in this, how- 
ever, he was mistaken. 

The Clovernor's letter appeared to excite in my fa- 
ther some surprize, but he said little. After some 
days, Captain Holmes being returned, he shewed it 
liim, asking him if he knew Keith, and what sort of 
a man he was ; adding, that, in his opinion, it proved 
very little discernment to think of setting up a boy in 
business, who for three years to come would not be of 
an age to be ranked in the class of men. Iloh-ncs 
said every thing he could in favour of the scheme ; 
but my father firmly maintained its absurdity, and at 
last gave a positive refusal. He wrote, however, a ci- 
vil letter to Sir William, thanking him for the protec- 
tion he had so obligingly oilered me, but refusing to 
assist me for the present, because he thought me too 
young to be intrusted with the conduct of so important 
an enterprise, and which woidd require so considera- 
ble a sum of money. 

My old comrade Collins, who was a clerk in the 
post-oifice, charmed with the account I ga^e of my 
new residence, expressed a desire of going thither ; 
and, while I waited my father's determination, he set 
off before me, by land, for Rhode-Island, leaving his 
books, which formed a handsome ccllection in mathe- 
matics and natural philosophy, to be conveyed with 
mine to New- York, where he purposed to wait for 
me. 

My father, tho' he could not approve Sir William's 
proposal, was yet pleased that I had obtained so ad- 
vantageous a recommendation as that of a person of 
his rank ; and that my industry and economy had ena- 
bled me to equip myself so handsomely in so short li 

pe- 



i62 FRANKLIN. 

period. Seeing no appearance of accommodating' 
matters between my brother and me, he consented to 
my return to Philadelphia, advised me to be civil to 
every body, to endeavour to obtain general esteem, 
and avoid satire and sarcasm, to which he tho't I was 
too much inclined ; adding, that with perseverance 
and prudent economy, I might, by the time I became 
of age, save enough to establish myself in business ; 
and that if a small sum should then be wanting, he 
would undertake to supply it. 

This was all I could obtain from him, except some 
trifling presents, in token of friendship, from him and 
my mother. I embarked once more fov New \''ork,. 
furnished at this time with their approbation and bless- 
ing. The sloop having touched at Newport in Rhode- 
Island, I paid a visit to my brother John, who had for 
some years been settled there, and was married. He 
had always been attached to me, and received me 
with great affection. One of his friends, whose name 
was Vernon, having a debt of about 36/. due to him 
in Pennsylvania, begged me to receive it for him, and 
keep the money till I should hear from him ; accord- 
ingly he gave me an order for that purpose This af- 
fair occasioned me, in the sequel, much uneasiness. 

At Newport we took on board a number of passen- 
gers, among whom were two young women, and a 
grave and sensible Quaker lady, with her servants. 
I had shown an obliging forwardness in rendering the 
Quaker some tricing services, which led her, probably, 
to feel some interest in my welfare ; for when she saw 
a familiarity take place, and every day increase, be- 
tween the two young women and me, she took me 
aside, and said, " Young man, I am in pain for thee. 
Thou hast no parent to watch over thy conduct, and 
thou seemest to be ignorant of the world, and the 
snares to which youth is exposed* Rely upon what I 
tell thee ; these are women of bad characters ; I per- 
ceive it in all their actions. If thou dost not take 
care, they will lead thee into danger. They are 
strangers to thee, and I advise thee, by the friendly 

in- 



FRANKLIN. 16^ 

interest T take in thy preservation, to form no connec- 
tion witli them." As I appeared at first not to think 
cjuite so ill of them as she did, she related many things 
she had seen and heard, which had escaped my atten- 
tion, but which convinced me she was in, the right. I 
thanked her for her obliging advice, and promised to 
follow it. 

Wlien we arrived at New- York, they informed me 
where they lodged, and invited me to come and see 
them. I did not, however, go, and it was v/ell I did 
not ; for, the next day, the captain missing a silver 
spoon, and some other things which had been taken 
from the cabin, and knowing these women to be pros- 
titutes, procured a search-warrant, found the stolen 
goods upon them, and had them punished. And thus, 
after having been saved from one rock concealed un- 
der water, upon which the vessel struck during our 
passage, I escaped another of a still more dangerous 
nature. 

At New- York I found my friend Collins, who had 
arrived some time before. We had been intimate 
from our infancy, and had read the same books toge- 
ther ; but he had the advantage of being able to de- 
vote more time to reading and study, and an astonish- 
ing disposition for mathematics, in which he left me 
far behind. When at Boston, I had been accustom- 
ed to pass with him almost all my leisure hours. He 
was then a sober and industrious lad ; his knowledge 
had gained him a very general esteem, and he seem- 
ed to promise to make an advantageous figure in soci- 
ety. But, during my absence, he had unfortunately 
addicted himself to brandy, and I learned, as well 
from himself as from the report of others, that every 
day since his arrival at New- York he had been intoxi- 
cated, and had acted in a very extravagant manner. 
He had also played, and lost all his money, so that I 
was obliged to pav all his expences at the inn, and to 
maintain him during the rest of the journey ; a bur- 
den that was very inconvenient to me. 

The 



j64 franklin. 

The Goyernor of New-York, whose name was Bar- 
net, hearing the captain say that a young- man who 
was: a passenger in his ship had a great number of 
books, begged him to bring me to his house. I ac- 
cordingly went, and should have taken Collins with 
me had he been sober. The Governor treated me 
with great civility, shewed me his library, which was 
a very considerable one, and we talked for some time 
upon books and authors. This was the second Gov- 
ernor who had honoured me with his attention ; and 
to a poor boy, as I then was, these little adventures 
did not fail to be pleasing. 

We arrived at Philadelphia. On the way I receiv- 
ed Vernon's money, without which we should have 
been unable to have iinished our journey. 

Collins wished to get employment as a merchant's 
plerk, but either his breath or his countenance betray- 
ed his bad habit ; for, tho' he had recommendations, 
he met with no success, and continued to eat and lodge 
with me, and at my expence. Knowing that I had 
Vernon's money he was continually asking me to 
lend him some of it, promising to repay me as soon as 
he should get employment. At last, he had drawn so 
much of this money, that I was extremely alarmed at 
what might become of me, should he fail to make good 
the deficiency. His habit of drinking did not at all di- 
minish, and was a frequent source of discord between 
us ; for, when he had drank a little too much, he was 
very headstrong. 

iieing one day in aboat together, on the Delaware, 
with some other young persons, he refused to take 
his turn in rowing. You shall row for me, said he, 
till we get home. No, I replied, we will not row for 
you. You shall, said he, or remain upon the water 
all night. — As you please. — Let us row, said the rest 
of the company ; what signifies whether he assists or 
not. But, already angry with him for his conduct in 
other, respects, I persisted in my refusal. He then 
swore he would make me row, or would throw me out 
of the boat j and he made up to me. As soon as he 

was 



FRANKLIN. i6i 

was within my reacli, I took him by the cbllar, gavid 
him a violent thrust, and threw him head-foremost in- 
to the river. I knew that he was a good swimmer^ 
and was therefore under no apprehensions for his life. 

Before he coukl turn himself, we were able, by a 
few strokes of our oars, to place ourselves .out of hi^ 
reach ; and whenever he touched the boat,' we asked 
him if he would row, striking his hands with the oars 
to make him let go bis hold. He was nearly suffo- 
cated with rage, but obstinately refused' making anv 
promise to row. Perceiving at length that his strengtli 
began to be exhausted, we took him into the boat, and 
conveyed him home in the evening, completely drench- 
ed. The utmost coldness subsisted between us aftet' 
this adventure. At last, the captain of a West-India 
ship, who was commissioned to procure a tutor for 
the children of a gentleman at Barbadoes, meeting 
with Collins, offered him the place. He accepted it, 
and took his leave of me, promising to discharge the 
debt he owed me with the first money he should re- 
ceive ; but I have heard nothing of him since. 

The violation of the trust reposed in me by Vernon, 
was one of the first great errors of my life ; and it 
proves that my father was not mistaken when he sup- 
posed me too young to be intrusted with the manage- 
ment of important afiairs. But, Sir William, upon 
reading his letter, thought him too prudent. There 
was a difference, he said, between individuals ; years 
of maturity were not always accompanied with discre- 
tion, neither was youth in every instance devoid of it. 
Since your Hither, added he, will not set you up in 
business, I will do it myself. Make out a list of what 
will be wanted from England, and I will send for the 
articles. You shall repay me when you can. I am 
determined to have a good printer here, and 1 am sure 
you will succeed. This was said with so much seem- 
ing cordiality, that I suspected not for an instant the 
sincerity of the offer. I had hitherto kept the project, 
with which Sir William had inspired me, of settling 
in business, a secret at Philadelphia, and I still conti, 

nueci 



i66 FRANKLIN. 

nued to cIo so. Had my reliance on the GovernoV 
been known, some friends, better acquainted with his 
character than myself, would doubtless have advised 
me not to trust him ; for I afterwards learned that he 
was universally known to be liberal of promises, which 
he had no intention to perform. But having never 
solicited him, how could I suppose his offers to be de- 
ceitful ? On the conti-ary, I believed him to be tlie 
best man in the world. 

I gave him an inventory of a small printing-office, 
the expence of which I had calculated at about 100/. 
sterling. He expressed his approbation ; but asked 
if my presence in England, that I might choose the 
characters myself, and see that every article was good 
in its kind, woukl not be an advantage ? You will also 
be able, said he, to form some acquaintance there, and 
establish a correspondence with stationers and book- 
sellers. This I acknowledged was desirable. That 
being the case, added he, hold yourself in readiness 
to go with the Annis. This was the annual vessel, 
and the only one, at that time, which made regular 
voyages between the ports of London and Philadel- 
phia. But the Annis was not to sail for some months. 
I therefore continued tp work with Keimer, unhappy 
respecting the sum which Collins had drawn from me, 
and almost in continual agony at the thoughts of Ver- 
non, who fortunately made no demand of his money 
till several years after. 

In the account of my first voyage from Boston to 
Philadelphia, I omitted, I believe, a trifling circum- 
stance, which will not perhaps be out of place here> 
During a calm which stopped us above Block-Island, 
the crew employed themselves in fishing for cod, of 
which they caught a great number. I had hitherto 
adhered to my resolution of not eating any thing that 
had possessed life ; and I considered on this occasion, 
agreeably to the maxims of my master Tryon, the 
capture of every fish as a sort of murder, committed 
without provocation, since these animals had neither 
done, nor were capable of doing, the smallest injury 

to 



FRANKLIN. 167 

to any one that should justify the measure. This 
mode of reasoning I conceived to be unanswerable. 
Meanwhile I had formerly been extremely fond o£ 
fish, and when one of these cod was taken out of the 
frying-pan, I thouglit its flavour delicious. I hesitat- 
ed some time between principle and inclination, till 
at last recollecting, that when the cod had been open- 
ed, some small fish had been found in his belly, I said 
to myself, if you eat one another, I see no reason 
why we may not eat you. I accordingly dined on the 
cod, with no small degree of pleasure, and have since 
continued to eat like the rest of mankind, returning 
only occasionally to my vegetable plan. 

I continued to live upon good terms witli Keimer, 
who had not the smallest suspicion of my intended es- 
tablishment. He still retained a portion of his former 
enthusiasm, and, being fond of argument, we fre- 
quently disputed together. I was so much in the ha- 
bit of using my Socratic method, and had so frequent- 
ly puzzled him by my questions, which appeared at 
first very distant from the point in debate, yet, never- 
theless, led to it by degrees, involving him in difficul- 
ties and contradictions from which he was unable to 
extricate himself, that he became at last ridiculously 
cautious, and would scarcely answer the most plain 
and familiar question without previously asking me, 
AVhat would you infer from that? Hence he formed 
so high an opinion of my talents for refutation, that 
he seriously proposed to me to become his colleague 
in the establishment of a new religious sect. He was 
to propagate the doctrine by preaching, and I to re- 
fute every opponent. 

When he explained to me his tenets, I found ma- 
ny absurdities which I refused to admit, unless he 
would agree in turn to adopt some of my opinions. 
Keimer wore his beard long, because Moses had 
somewhere said, " Thou shalt not mar the corners of 
thy beard." He likewise observed the Sabbath, and 
these were with him two very essential points. I 
consented to adopt them, provided lie would abstain 

fi'om 



i6S FRANKLIN. 

from animtil food. I doubt, said he, ^vhether my con- 
stitution will be able to support it. I assured him, on 
the contrary, that he would find himself the better for 
it. He was naturally a j^lutton, and I wished to amuse 
myself by starving him. He consented to make trial 
of this regimen, if I w^ould bear him company, and 
in reality we continued it for three months. A wo- 
man in the neighbourhood prepared and brought us 
©ur victuals, to whom I gave a list of 40 dishes, in the 
composition of which there entered neither fiesh nor 
fish. This fancy was the more agreeable to me, as it 
turned to good account, for the whole expence of our 
living did no exceed for each eighteen pence a week. 

I continued it cheerfully, but poor Keimer suffered 
terribly. Tired of the project, he sighed for " the 
ilesh-pots of Egypt." At length he ordered a roast 
pig, and invited me and two of our female acquaint- 
ance to dine with him ; but the pig being ready a lit- 
tle too soon, he could not resist the temptation, and 
eat it all up before we arrived. 

Durinp: the circumstances I have related, I had paid 
Rome attentions to Miss Read. I entertained for her 
the utmost esteem and affection ; and I had reason to 
believe that these sentiments were mutual. But we 
were both young, scarcely more than 18 years of age ; 
and 1 was on the point of undertaking a long voyage, 
her mother thought it prudent to prevent matters be- 
ing carried too far for the present, judging that if mar- 
riage was our object, there would be more propriety 
in it after my return, when, as at least I expected, I 
should be established in my business. Perhaps, also, 
she thought that my expectations were not so well 
founded as I imagined. 

My most intimate acquaintance at this time were 
Charles OsboiTie, Joseph Watson, and James Ralph. 
It was a custom with us to take a walk on Sundays in 
the woods that bordered on the Schuylkill. Here we 
read together, and afterwards conversed on vhat wc 
read. Ralph was disposed to give himself up entirely 
to poetry. He f.attertd himself that he should arrive 

at 



FRANKLIN. ,69 

at gi*eat eminence in the art, and even acquire a for- 
tune. The sublimest poets, he pretended, when they 
first began to write, committed as many faults as him- 
self. Osborne endeavoured to dissuade him from it 
by assuring him that he had no genius for poetry, and 
advised him to stick to the trade in which he had been 
brought up. In the road of commerce, said he, you 
will be sure, by diligence and assiduity, tho' you have 
no capital, of so far succeeding as to be employed as 
a factor, and may thus, in time, acquire the means of 
setting up for yourself. I concurred in these senti- 
ments, but at the same time expressed my approba- 
tion of amusing ourselves sometimes with poetry, 
with a view to improve our style. In consequence of 
this it was proposed, that, at our next meeting, eacli 
of us should bring a copy of verses of his own com- 
position. Our object in this competition was, to be- 
nefit each other by our mutual remarks, criticisms 
and corrections ; and, as style and expression were all 
we had in view, we excluded every idea of invention, 
by agreeing that our task should be a version of the 
18th psalm, in which is described the descent of the 
Deity. 

The time of our meeting drew near, when Ralph 
called upon me, and told me his piece was ready. I 
informed him that I had been idle, and, not much lik- 
ing the task, had done nothing. He shewed me his 
piece, and asked what I thought of it. I expressed 
myself in terms of warm approbation, because it re- 
ally appeared to have considerable merit. He then 
said, Osborne will never acknowledge the smallest de- 
gree of excellence in any production of mine. Envy 
alone dieto^tes to him a thousand animadversions. Of 
you he is not so jealous; I wish, therefore, you would 
take the verses, and produce them as your own. I 
will pretend not to have had leisure to write any thing. 
We shall then sec in what manner he will speak of 
them. I agreed to this little ariifice, and immediate- 
ly transcribed the verses, to prevent all suspicion. 

I We 



57© FRANKLIN. 

We met. Watson's performance was the first that 
s^a& read. It had some beauties, but many faults. 
We next read Osborne's, which was much better. 
Ralph did it justice, remarking a few imperfections, 
ind applauding such parts as were excellent. He had 
tliimself nothing' to show. It was now my turn. I 
jtiade some difficulty, seemed as if I wished to be ex- 
cused, pretended that I had no time to make correc- 
tions, Sec. No excuse, however, was admissible, and 
the piece must be produced. It was read and re-read. 
iVatson and Osborne immediately resigned the palm, 
and united in applauding it. Ralph alone made a few 
remarks, and proposed some alterations ; but I defended 
my text. Osborne agreed with me, and told Ralph he 
Tj'as n© more able to criticise than he Nvas able to write. 

When Osborne was alone with me, he expressed 
himself still more strongly in fevour of ia hat he con- 
sidered as my performance. He pretended that he 
had put some constraint on himselT before, apprehen- 
sive of my construing his commendation mto flattery. 
But who would have supposed, said he, Franklin to 
be capable of such a composition ? What painting, 
what energy, what fire 1 He has surpassed the origin- 
al I In his common conversation he appears not to 
have choice of words ; he hesitates, and is at a loss ; 
and yet, good God, how he writes! 

At our next meeting, Ralph discovered the trick 
WehadplayedOsborne, who was rallied without mercy 

The Governor appeared to be fond of my company, 
and frequently invited me to his house. He. always 
tpoke of his intention of settling me in business, as a 
point that was decided. I was to take with me letters 
pf recommendation to a number of friends, and parti- 
cularly a letter of credit, in order to obtain the neces- 
sary sum for the purchase of my press, types and pa- 
per. He appointed various times for me to come for 
these letters, which would certainly be ready; and 
when I came, always put me off to another day. 

These successive delays continued till the vessel, 
Whtiie depiuture had been several times deferred, was 

^ ' on 



FRANKLIN. 171 

©n the point of setting' sail, when I again went to Sir 
William's house, to receive my letters and take leave 
of him. I saw his secretary, Dr. Bard, who told me 
that the Governor was extremely busy writing, but 
that he would be down at Newcastle before the vessel, 
and that the letters would be delivered to me there. 

Ralph, tho' he was married, and had a child, deter- 
mined to accompany me in this voyage. His object 
was supposed to be, the establishing a correspondence 
with some mercantile houses, in order to sell goods 
by commission ; but I afterwards learned, that, hav- 
ing reason to be dissatisfied with the parents of his 
wife, he proposed to himself to leave her on their 
hands, and never to return to America again. 

Having taken leave of my friends, and interchang- 
ed promises of fidelity with Miss Read, I quitted Phi- 
ladelphia. At Newcastle the vessel came to anchor. 
The Governor was arrived, and I went to his lodgings. 
His secretary received me with great civility, told me, 
on the part of the Governor, that he could not see me 
then, as he was engaged in afiaiis of the utmost im- 
portance ; but that he would send the letters on board, 
and that he wished me, with all his heart, a good voy- 
age and speedy return. 1 returned somewhat aston- 
ished, but still without entertaming the slightest sus- 
picion. 

Mr. Hamilton, a celebrated barrister of Philadel- 
phia, had taken a passage to England for himself and 
his son ; and, in conjunction with Mr. Denham, a Quak- 
er, and Messrs. Oniam and Russel, proprietors of a 
forge in Maryland, had agreed for the whole cabin, so 
that Ralph and I were obliged to take up our lodging 
with the crew. Being unknown to every body in the 
ship, we W£re looked upon as the common order of 
people ; but Mr. Hamilton and his son (it was James, 
who was afterwards Governor) left us at Newcastle, 
and returned to Philadelphia, whither he was recalled, 
at a very great expense, to plead tlie cause of a vessel 
that had been seized ; and just as we were about to 
sail, Colonel Finch came on board, and shewed mc 

miuiy 



172 FRANKLIN. 

many civilities. The passengers, upon this, paid me 
more attention, and I was invited, together with my 
friend Ralph, to occupy the place in the cabin which 
the return of the Mr. Hamiltons had made vacant, an 
offer which we very readily accepted. 

Having learned that the dispatches of the Governor 
had been brought on board by Colonel Finch, I asked 
the captain for the letters that were to be intrusted to 
my care. He told me that they were all put together 
in the bag, which he could not open at present ; but 
before we reached England, he would give me an op- 
portunity of taking them out. I was satisfied with 
this answer, and we pursued our voyage. 

The company in the cabin were all very sociable, 
and we were perfectly well off as to provisions, as we 
took the advantage of the whole of Mr. Hamilton's, 
who had laid in a very plentiful stock. During the 
passage, Mr. Denham contracted a friendship for me, 
which ended only with his life : in other respects, the 
Yoyage was by no means an agreeable one, as we 
had much bad weather. 

When WG arrived in the river Thames, the captain 
was as good as his word, and allowed me to search 
the bag for the Governor's letters. I could not find a 
single one with my name written on it, as committed 
to my care ; but I selected six or seven, which I judg- 
ed, from the direction, to be those that were intended 
for me, particularly one to Mr. ]&asket, the King's 
printer, and another to a stationer, who was the first 
person I called upon. I delivered him the letter as 
coming from Governor Keith. " I have no acquaint- 
ance (said he) with any such person ;" and opening 
the letter, " Oh, it is from Riddlesden, (he exclaimed) 
I have lately discovered him to be a very arrant knave, 
and I wish to have nothing to do either with him or 
his letters." He instantly put the letter in my hand 
turned upon his heel, and left me serve some cus- 
tomei's. 

I was astonished at finding these letters were not 
from the Govenior. Reflecting, and putting circum- 
stances, 



FRANKLIN. 173 

stances together, I then began to doubt his sincerity. 
I rejoined my iriend Denham, and related the whole 
affair to him. He let me at once into Keith's charac- 
ter, told me there was not the least probability of his 
having written a single letter ; that no one who knew 
him ever placed any reliance on him, and laughed at 
my credulity in supposing that the Governor would 
give me a letter of credit, when he had no credit for 
himself. As I shewed some uneasiness respecting 
what step I should take, he advised me to try to get 
employment in the house of some printer. You may 
there, said he, improve yousself in business, and you 
will be able to settle yourself the more advantageous- 
ly when you return to America. 

But what are we to think of a Governor who could 
play so scurvy a trick, and thus grossly deceive a poor 
young lad, wholly destitute of experience ? It was a 
practice with him. Wishing to please every body, 
and having httle to bestow, he was lavish of promises. 
He was, in other respects, sensible and judicious, a 
very tolerable writer, and a good Governor for the 
people, tho' not so for the proprietaries, whose instruc- 
tions he frequently disregarded. Many of our best 
laws were his work, and established during his admi- 
nistration. 

Ralph and I were inseparable companions. We took 
a lodging together at three shillings and six-pence a 
week, which was as much as we could afibrd. He met 
with some relations in London, but they were poor, 
and not able to assist him. He now, for the first time, 
informed me of his intention to remain in England, 
and that he had no thoughts of ever returning to Phi- 
ladelphia. He was totally without money, the little 
he had been able to raise having barely sufficed for his 
passage. I had still 15 pistoles remaining, and to me 
he had from time to time recourse, while he tried to 
get employment. 

At first, believing himself possessed of talents for 
the stage, he thought of turning actor ; but Wilkes, to 
whom he applied, frankly advised him to renounce 

the 



174 FRANKLIN. 

the idea, as It was impossible to succeed. He next 
proposed to Roberts, a bookseller in Patev-noster-RoW) 
to write a weekly paper in the manner of the Specta- 
tor, upon terms to which Roberts would not listen. 
Lastly, he endeavoured to procure employment as a 
copyist, and applied to the lawyers and stationers about 
the Temple, but be could find no vacancy. 

As to myself, I immediately got engaged at Palm- 
er's, at that time a noted printer in Bartholomevz-CIose, 
with whom I continued nearly a year. I applied very 
assiduously to my work, but I expended with Ralph 
almost all that I earned. Plays, and other places of 
amusement, which we frequented together, having ex- 
hausted my pistoles, we lived after this from hand to 
mouth. Ke appeared to have entirely forgotten his 
Vv'ire and child, as I also, by degrees, forgot my en- 
gagements with Miss Read, to M'hom I never wrote 
more than one letter, and that merely to inform her 
that I was not likely to return soon. This was anotheil' 
grand error of my hfe, which I should be desirous of" 
correcting, were I to begin my career again. 

I was employed at Palmer's on the second editidh 
of Woolas ton's Religion of Nature. Some of his ar- 
guments appearing to me not to be well founded, f 
wrote a small metaphysical treatise, in which I ani- 
madverted oil those passages. It was entitled, A 
Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure and 
l^ain. I dedicated it to my friend Ralph, and printed 
a small number of copies. Palmer upon this treated 
me with more consideration, and regarded me as a 
young man of talents, though he seriously took, me to 
task for the principles of my pamphlet, which he 
looked upon as abominable. The printing of this 
work was another error of my life. 

While I lodged in Little Britain, I formed an ac- 
quaintance with a bookseller of the name of Wilcox, 
whose shop Avas next door to me. Circulating libra- 
ries were not then in use. He had an immense col- 
lection of books of all soi'ts. We agreed that, for a 
reasonable retribution, of which J have now forgotten 

tJie 



FRANKLIN. 175 

tlie price, I should have free access to his library, and 
take what books I pleased, which I was to return when 
I had read them. I considered this agreement as a 
very great advantage, and I derived from it as much 
benefit as was in my power. 

My pamphlet falling into the hands of a surgeon, of 
the name of Lyons, author of a book entitled. Infalli- 
bility of Human Judgment, was the occasion of a con- 
siderable intimacy between us. He expressed great 
esteem for me, came frequently to see me, in order 
to converse upon metaphysical subjects, and introdu- 
ced me to D\\ Mandeville, author of the Fables of the 
Bees, who had instituted a club at a tavern in Cheap- 
side, of which he was the soul ; he was a facetious 
and very amusing character. He also introduced me, 
at Batson's Coffee-house, to Dr. Pemberton, who pro- 
mised to give me an opportunity of seeing Sir Isaac 
Newton, which 1 very ardently desired, but he never 
kept his word. ; ;{.t , 

I had brought some curiosities from America, the 
principal of which was a purse made of the asbestos, 
which fire only purifies. Sir Hans Sloanc hearing of 
it, called upon me, and invited me to his house in 
Bloomsbury-square, where, after shewing me every 
thing that was curious, he prevailed on me to add this 
piece to his collection, for which he paid me very 
handsomely. 

I now began to think of laying by some money. 
The printing-iiouse of "Watts, near Lincoln's Inn- 
Fields, being a still more considerable one than that 
in which 1 worked, it was probable I might find it 
more advantageous to be employed there. I offered 
myself, and was accepted, and in this house I conti- 
nued during the remainder of my stay in London. 

On my entrance, I worked at first as a press-man, 
conceiving that 1 had need of bodily exercise, to which 
I had been accustomed in America, where the print- 
ers work alternately as compositors and at the press. 
I drank nothing but water. The other workmen, to 
the amount of about 50, were great drinkers of beer. 

1 



r;^) FRANKLIN. 

I carried, occasionally, a large form of letters in each 
hand up and down stairs,while the rest employed both 
hands to carry one. They were surprised to see, by 
this and many other examples, that the Ajnerican Aqua-- 
tic^ as they used to call me, Avas stronger than those 
Avho drank porter. The beer-boy had sufficient em- 
ployment during the whole day in serving that house 
alone. My fellow press man drank every day a pint 
of beer before breakfast, a pint with bread and cheese 
for breakfast, one between breakfast and dinner, one at 
dinner, one again about 6 o'clock in the afternoon, 
and another after he had finished his day's work This 
'custom appeared to me abominable ; but he had need, 
he said, of all this beer, in order to acquire strength 
to work. 

I endeavoured to convince him that bodily strength 
furnished by beer, could only be in proportion to the 
solid part of the barley dissolved in the water of which 
the beer was composed ; that there was a larger por- 
tion of flour in a penny -loaf, and that consequently if 
he eat this loaf, and drank a pint of water with it, he 
would derive more strength from it than from a pint 
of beer. This reasoning, however, did not prevent 
him from drinking his accustomed quantity of beer, 
and paying every Saturday night a score of four or five 
shillings a week for this beverage ; an expence from 
which I was totally exempt. Thus do these poor de- 
vils continue all their lives in a state of voluntary 
wretchedness and poverty. 

At the end of a few weeks. Watts having occasion 
for me above stairs as a compositor, I quitted the 
press. The compositors demanded of me garnish- 
money afresh. This I considered as an imposition, 
already paid below. The master was of the same opi- 
nion, and desired me not to comply. I thus remained 
two or three weeks out of the fraternity. I was con- 
sequently looked upon as excommunicated, and when- 
ever I was absent, no Uttle trick that malice could sug- 
gest was left unpractised upon me. 1 found my let- 
ters mixed, my pages transposed, my matter broken, 

S^c. 



FRANKLIN. i77 

&:c. 8cc. all which was attributed to the spirit that 
haunted the Chapel,* and tormented those who were 
not reg-ularly admitted. I was at last obliged to sub- 
mit to pay, notwithstanding the protection of the ma- 
ster; convinced of the folly of not keeping up a good 
understanding- with those among whom we were des- 
tined to live. 

After this, I lived in the utmost harmony with my 
fellow-labourers, and soon acquired considerable influ- 
ence among them. I proposed some alterations in the. 
laws of the Chapel, which 1 carried without opposi- 
tion. My example prevailed with several of them to 
renounce their abominable practice of bread and cheese 
with beer ; and they procured, like me, from a neigh- 
bouring house, a good bason of warm gruel, in which 
was a small slice of butter, with toasted bread and 
nutmeg. This was a much better breakfast, which 
did not cost more than a pint of beer, namely, three- 
half-pence, and at the same time preserved the head 
clearer. Those who continued to gorge themselves 
with beer, often lost their credit with the publican, 
from neglecting to pay their score. They had then 
recourse to me, to become security for them, tlieir 
light, as they used to call it, being- out. I attended 
at the pay-table every Saturday evening, to take up 
the little sum which I had made myself answerable 
for, and which sometimes amounted to near 30 shil- 
lings a week. 

This circumstance, added to my reputation of be- 
ing a good gabber^ or, in other words, skilful in the 
art of burlesque, kept up my importance in the cha- 
pel. I had, beside, recommended myself to the esteem 
of my master, by my assiduous application to busi- 
ness, never observing Saint Monday, My extraordi- 
nary quickness in composing always procured me such 
work as was most urgent, and which is commonly 
best paid ; and thus my time passed away in a very 
pleasant manner. 

12 My 

• Printing-houfes, in general, are thus denominated by th« 
-workmen, as the firft office fet up in England, by Caxton, \yas 
an a Chapel in Wcftminfter. The fpirit they call Ralph. 



178 FRANKLIN. 

My lodging in Little Britain being too far from the 
printing-house, I took another in Duke-strect, oppo- 
site the Roman Chapel. It was the back of an Itali- 
an warehouse. The house was kept by a widow, Avho 
had a daughter, a servant, and a shop-boy, but the 
latter slept out of the house. After sending to the 
people with whom I lodged in Little Britain, to in- 
quire into my character, she agreed to take me at the 
same price, three-and-sixpence a week, contenting 
herself, she said, with so little, because of the secu- 
rity she would derive, as they were all women, from 
having a man to lodge in the same house. 

She was a woman rather advanced in life, the daugh- 
ter of a clergyman. She had been educated a Pro- 
testant, but her husband, whose memory she highly 
revered, had converted her to the Catholic religion. 
She had lived in habits of intimacy with persons of 
distinction, of whom she knew various anecdotes as 
Jar back as the time of Charles II. Being subject to 
lits of the gout, which often confined her to lier room, 
she was sometimes disposed to see company. Hers 
was so amusing to me, that I was glad to pass the 
evening with her as often as she desired it. Our sup- 
per consisted only of ha.lf an anchovy a-piece, upon a 
slice of bread and butter, with half a pint of ale be- 
tween us. But the entertainment was in her conver- 
Stiiion. 

The early hours I kept, and the little trouble I oc- 
casioned in the family, made her loth to part with me, 
and when I mentioned another lodging 1 had found, 
nearer the printing-house, at two shillings a week, 
■\^'hich fell in with my plan of saving, she persuaded 
me to give it up, making herself an abatement of two 
shillings ; and thus I continued to lodge with, her, du- 
ring the remainder of my abode in London, at eigh- 
teen-pcnce a week. 

At the printing-house I contracted an intimacy witli 
a sensible young man, of the name of Wygate, who, 
as his parents were in good circumstances, had receiv- 
ed a better education than is common with printers. 

He 



FRANKLIN. i79 

He was a tolerable Latin scholar, spoke French Hiient- 
ly, and was fond of reading. 1 taught him, as well 
as a friend of his, to swim, l)y taking them twice on- 
ly in the river, after which they stood in need of no 
farther assistance. We one day made a party to 
go by water to Chelsea, in order to see the College^ 
and Don Saltcro's curiosities. On our return, at the 
request of the company, whose curiosity Wygatc had 
excited, I undressed myself, and leaped into the river. 
I swam from near Chelsea the whole way to Black- 
friars-Bridge, exliibiting, during my course, a vane- 
tv of feats^of activity and address, botli upon the sur- 
iitce of the water, as well as under it. This sight oc- 
casioned much astonishment and pleasure to those to 
whom it was new. In my youth I took great delight 
in this exercise. I knew, and could execute, ail the 
evolutions and positions of Thevenot, and I added to 
them some of my own invention, in which I endea- 
voured to unite gracefulness and utility. I topk a 
pleasure in displaying them all upon this occasion, 
and was highly llattered with the admiration they ex- 
cited. 

Wygate, besides being desirous of perfecting him- 
self in this art, was the more attached to me from 
there being, in other respects, a conformity in our 
tastes and studies. He at length proposed to me to 
make the tour of Europe with him, maintaining our- 
selves at the same time by working at our prolcrision. 
1 was on rhe point of consenting, when I mentioned 
it to my friend Denham, with whom I was glad to 
pass an hour whenever 1 had leisure. He dissuaded 
me from the project, and advised me to return to Pin- 
ladelphia, which he was about to do himself. I mu'it 
relate in this place a trait of this worthy man's cha- 
racter i -u 

' He hf^l formerly l^een in business at Bristol, but 
bailing, he compounded with his creditors, and de- 
parted for America, wJiere, by assiduous application 
its a merchant, he acquired in a few years a very con- 
isiderable fortune. Kctiirning to England in the s.aiiae 

ves- 



i8o FRANKLIN. 

vessel with myself, as I have related above, he invit- 
ed all his old creditors to a feast. When assembled, 
he thanked them for the readiness with which they 
had received his small composition ; and while they 
expected nothing more than a simple entertainment, 
each found under his plate, when it came to be re- 
moved, a draft upon a banker for the residue of his 
debt, with interest. 

He told me it was his intention to carry back with 
him to Philadelphia a great quantity of goods, in or- 
der to open a store ; and he offered to take me with 
him in the capacity of a clerk, to keep his books, in 
which he would instruct me, copy letters, and super- 
intend the store. He added, that, as soon as 1 had 
acquired a knowledge of mercantile transactions, he 
would improve my situation, by sending me with a 
cargo of corn and flour to the American islands, and 
other lucrative commissions ; so that, with good ma- 
nagement and economy, I might, in time, begin busi- 
ness with advantage for myself. 

I relished these proposals. — London began to tire 
me ; the agreeable hours I had passed at Philadelphia 
presented themselves to my mind, and I wished to see 
them revive. I consequently engaged myself to Mr» 
Denham, at a salary of 50/. a-year. This was in- 
deed less than I earned as a compositor ; but then I 
Jiad a fairer prospect. I took leave, therefore, as I 
believed, for ever, of printing, and gave myself up 
entirely to my new occupation, spending all my time 
cither in going from house to house with Mr, Den- 
ham, to purchase goods, oi in packing them up, or 
in expediting the workmen. Sec. &c. When every 
thing, however, was on board, I had at last a few 
days leisure. 

Diu'ing this interval, I was one day sent for by ft 
frcntleman, whom 1 knew only by name. It was Sir 
William Wyndham. I went to his house. He had, 
by some means, heard of my performances between 
Chelsea and Bhickfriars, and that I had taught the art 
•f swimm.ing to Wygate and another young man ia 

the 



FRANKLIN. iSi 

t!ie course of a few hours. His two sons were on the 
pomt of setting out on their travels ; he was desirous 
that they should previously learn to swim, and oflered 
me a very liberal reward if I would undertake to in- 
struct them. They were not yet arrived in town, and 
the stay I should make myself was uncertain. I could 
not, therefore, accept his proposal. I was led, how- 
ever, to suppose, from this incident, that if I had 
wished to remain in London, and open a swimming 
school, I should perhaps have gained a great deal of 
money. This idea struck me so forcibly, that, had the 
offer been made sooner, I should have dismissed the 
thoughts of returning as yet to America. Some years 
after, you and I had a more important business to settle 
with one of the sons of Sir William Wyndham, thei\ 
Lord Egremont. — But let us not anticipate events. 

I thus passed about 18 months in London, working 
almost without intermission at my trade, avoiding all 
expence on my own account, except going now and 
then to the play, and purchasing a few books. But 
my friend Ralph kept me poor. He owed me about 
27/. which was so much money lost, and when consi-r 
dereJ as taken from my little savings, was a very 
great sum. I had, notwithstanding this, a regard for 
him, as he possessed many amiable qualities. But 
tho' I had done nothing for myself in point of for- 
tune, I had increased my stock of knowledge, either 
by the many excellent books I had read, or the con- 
versation of learned and literary persons with whom 
I was acquainted. 

We sailed from Gravesend the 23d of July, 1726, 
and landed at Philadelphia on the 1 1th of the follow- 
ing October. 

Keith had been deprived of his office of Governor, 
and was succeeded by Major Gordon. I met him 
walking in the streets as a private individual. He ap- 
peared a little ashamed at seeing me, but passed on 
without saying any thing. 

I should have been equally ashamed myself at meet- 
ing Miss Read, had not her family, justly despairing 



1^2 TRANKLIN. 

of rily return after reading my letter, advised her to 
give me up, and marry a potter, of the name of Ro- 
gers, to which she consented ; but he never made her 
happy, and she soon separated from him, refusing to 
cohabit with him, or even bear his name, on account 
of a report which prevailed, of his having another 
wife. His skill in his profession had seduced Miss 
Read's parents ; but he was as bad a subject as he was 
excellent as a workman. He involved himself in debt, 
and lied, in the year 1727 oi' 1728, to the West In- 
dies, where he died. 

Mr. Denham took a warehouse in Water-street, 
■where we exhibited our commodities. I applied my- 
self closely, studied accounts, and became in a short 
time very expert in trade. We lodged and eat toge- 
ther. He was sincerely attached to me, and acted 
towards me as if he had been my father. On my 
side, I respected and loved him. My situation was 
happy, but it was a happiness of no long duration. 

Early in February, 1727, when I entered into my 
2 2d year, we were both taken ill. I was attacked 
with a pleurisy, which had nearly carried me off; I 
suffered terribly, and considered it as all over with me. 
I felt, indeed, a sort of disappointment when I found 
myself likely to recover, and regretted that I had still 
to experience, sooner or later, the same disagreeable 
scene again. 

I have forgotten what was Mr. Denham's disorder, 
!)ut it was a tedious one, and he at last sunk under it. 
He left me a small legacy in his will, as a testimony 
of his friendship ; and I was once more abandoned to 
myself in the wide world, the warehouse being con- 
fided to the care of the testamentary executor, who 
dismissed me. 

My brother-in-law. Holmes, who happened to 'be 
at Philadelphia, advised me to return to my former 
profession ; and Keimer offered me a very considera- 
ble salary if I v/ould undertake the management of 
his printing-office, that he might devote himself en- 
tirely to the superintendance of his shop. His wife 

and 



FP.ANKLIN. 1)53 

and relations in London had given me a bad character 
of him, and I was loth, for the present, to have any 
concern with him. I endeavoured to get employment 
as a clerk to a merchant ; but not readily finding' a si- 
tuation, I was induced to accept Keimer's proposal. 

I soon perceived that Keimer's intention, in engag- 
ing me at a price so much above what he was accus- 
tomed to give, was, that I might form all his raw 
journeymen and apprentices, who scarcely cost him 
any thing, and who, being indentured, would, as soon 
as they should be sufficiently instructed, enable him 
to do without me. I nevertheless adhered to my 
agreement. I put the office in order, which was in 
the utmost confusion, and brought his people, by de- 
grees, to execute heir work in a more proper manner* 
—Among these people was one George Webb. 

It was singular to see an Oxford scholar in the con- 
dition of a purchased servant. He was not more than 
18 years of age, and the following are the particulars 
he gave me of himself. Born at Gloucester, he had 
been educated at a grammar-school, and had distin- 
guished himself among the scholars by his superior 
style of acting, when they represented dramatic per- 
formances. He was member of a literary club in the 
town, and some pieces of his composition, in prose as 
well as in verse, had been inserted in the Gloucester 
papers. From hence he was sent to Oxford, where 
he remained about a year; but he was not contented, 
and wished above all things to see London, and be- 
come an actor. At length, having received 15 gui- 
neas to pay his quarter's board, he decamped with 
the money from Oxford, hid his gown in a hedge, and 
travelled to London. There, having no friend to di- 
rect him, he fell into bad company, soon squandered 
his 15 guineas, could find no way of being introduced 
to the actors, became contemptible, pawned his clotJies, 
and was in want of bread. As he was walking along 
.the streets, almost famished with hunger,- and not 
knowing what to do, a recruiting bill was put into his 
hand, which olfered an immediate treat and bounty- 
mo- 



i84 FRANKLIN. 

money to whoever was disposed to serve in America. 
He instantly repaired to the house of rendezvous, in- 
listed himself, was put on board a ship, and conveyed 
to America, without ever writing a line to inform his 
parents what was become of him. His mental viva- 
city and good natural disposition made him an excel- 
lent companion ; but he was indolent, thoughtless, 
and to the last degree imprudent. 

I increased my acquaintance with persons of know- 
ledge and information in the town. Keimer himself 
treated me with great civility and apparent esteem ; 
and I had nothing to give me uneasiness but my debt 
to Vernon, which I was unable to pay, my savings as 
yet being very little. He had the goodness, however, 
not to ask me for the money. 

Our press was frequently in want of the necessary 
quantity of letter, and there was no such trade as that 
of letter-founder in America. I had seen the prac- 
tice of this art at the house of James, in London, but 
at the same time paid very little attention to it. I, 
however, contrived to fabricate a mould. I made use 
of such letters as we had for punches, founded new 
letters of lead in matrices of clay, and thus supplied, 
in a tolerable manner, the wants that were most pres- 
sing. 

I also, upon occasion, engraved various ornaments, 
made ink, gave an eye to the shop ; in short, I was 
in every respect, the Jac^otmn, But, useful as I made 
myself, I perceived that my services became every 
day of less importance, in proportion as the other 
men improved ; and when Keimer paid me my se- 
cond quarter's wages, he gave me to understand that 
they were too heavy, and that he thought I ought to 
make an abatement. He became by degrees less ci- 
vil, and assumed more the tone of master. He fre- 
quently found fault, was difficult to please, and seem- 
ed always on the point of coming to an open quarrel 
with me. 

I continued, however, to bear it patiently, conceiv- 
ing- that his ill-humour was partly occasioned by the 

de- 



FRANKLIN, 1S5 

derangement and embarassment of his affairs. At 
last a slight incident broke our connection. Hearing 
a noise in the neighbourhood, I put my head out of 
the window to see what was the matter. Keimer be- 
ing in the street, observed me, and, in a loud and an- 
gry tone, told me to mind my work ; adding some 
reproachful words, which piqued me the more as they 
were uttered in the street, and the neighbours, whom 
the same noise had attracted to the windows, were 
witnesses of the manner in which I was treated. He 
immediately came up to the printing-room, and con- 
tinued to exclaim against me. The quarrel became 
warm on both sides, and he gave me notice to quit 
him at the expiration of three months, as had been 
agreed between us, regretting that he was obliged to 
give me so long a term. I told hijn that his regret 
was superiluous, as I was ready to quit him instantly ; 
and I took ihy hat and came out of the house, begging 
Meredith to take care of some things which I left, 
and bring them to my lodgings. 

Meredith came to me in the evening. We talked 
for some time upon the quarrel that had taken place- 
He had conceived a great veneration for me, and was 
sorry I should quit the house while he remained in it. 
He dissuaded me from returning to my native coun- 
try, as I began to think of doing. He reminded me 
that Keimer owed more than he possessed ; that his 
creditors began to be alarmed ; that he kept his shop 
in a wretched state, often sellmg things at prime cost 
for the sake of ready money, and continually giving 
credit, without keeping any accounts; that, of conse- 
quence, he must very soon fail, which would occasion 
a vacancy from which I might derive advantage. I 
objected my want of money. Upon which, he in- 
formed me, that his father had a very high opinion 
of me, and, from a conversation that had passed be- 
tween them, he was sure that he would advance what- 
ever might be necessary to establish us, if I was wil- 
ling to enter into partnership with him. " My time 
with Keimer (added he) will be at an end next spring. 

In 



i86 FRANKLIN. 

In the mean time we may send to London for our 
press and types. I know that I dm no workman ; but 
if you ag-ree to the proposal, your skill in the busi- 
ness will be balanced by the capital I will furnish, 
and we will share the profits equally." His proposal 
was reasonable, and I fell in with it. His father, who 
was then in the town, approved of it. He knew that 
I had some ascendency over his son, as I had been 
able to prevail on him to abstain a long time from 
drinking brandy; and he hoped, that, when more 
closely connected with him, I should cure him entire- 
ly of this unfortunate habit. 

i gave the father a list of what it would be necessa- 
ry to import from London. He took it to a merchant, 
and the order was given. We agreed to keep the se- 
cret till the arrival of the materials, and I was, in the 
mean time, to procure work, if possible, in another 
printing-house ; but there was no place vacant, and I 
remained idle. After some days, Keimer, having the 
expectation of being employed to print some New- 
Jersey money-bills, that would require types and en- 
gravings, which I only could furnish, and fearful that 
Bradford, by engaging me, might deprive him of the 
undertaking, sent me a very civil message, telling 
me that old friends ought not to be disunited on ac- 
count of a few words, which were the effects only of 
a momentary passion, and inviting me to return to 
him. Meredith persuaded me to comply with the ia- 
vitalion, particularly as it would afford him more op- 
portunities of improving himself in the business, by 
means of my instructions. I did so ; and we lived up- 
on better terms than before our sepamlion. 

He obtained the New-Jersey business ; and, in or- 
der to execute it, I constructed a copper-plate print- 
ing-press, the first that had been seen in the country. 
I engraved various ornaments and vignettes for the 
bills, and we repaired to Burlington together, where 
I executed the whole to the general satisfaction ; and 
he received a sum of money for his work, which en- 
abled him to keep his head above water for a consi- 
derable time longer. At 



FRANKLIN. 187 

At Burlington I formed acquaintance with the prin- 
cipal personages of the province, many of whom were 
commissioned by the Assembly to superintend the 
press, and to see that no more bills were printed than 
the law had prescribed. Accordingly, they were con- 
stantly with us, each in liis turn, and he that came 
commonly brought with him a friend or two, to bear 
him company. My mind was more cultivated by 
reading than Keimer's, and it was for this reason, 
probably, that they set more vakie on my conversa- 
tion. They took me to their houses, introduced mc 
to their friends, and treated me with the greatest ci- 
vility ; while Keimer, tlio' master, saw himself a lit- 
tle neglected. He was, in fact, a strange animal, ig- 
norant of the common modes of life, apt to oppose 
with rudeness generally received opinions, an enthu- 
siast in certain points of religion, disgustingly un- 
clean in his person, and a little knavish with all. 

We remained there nearly three months, and at the 
expiration of this period I could include in the list of 
my friends. Judge Allen, Samuel Bustil, Secretary 
of the province, Isaac Person, Joseph Cooper, seve-f 
ral of the Smiths, all members of the Assembly, and 
Isaac Deacon, Inspector-general. The last was a 
shrewd and subtle old man. He told me, that, when 
a boy, his first employment had been that of carrying 
clay to brick-makers ; that he did not learn to write 
till he was somewhat advanced in life ; that he was af- 
terwards employed as an underling to a surveyor, who 
taught him his trade ; and that, by industry, he had 
acquired a competent fortune. " I foresee (said he 
one day to me) that you will soon supplant this man, 
(speaking of Keimer) and get a fortune in the busi- 
ness at Philadelphia." He was wholly ignorant at the 
time of my intention of establishing myself there or 
any where else. These iricnds were very serviceable 
to me in the end, as was I' also, upon occasion, to 
some of them, and they have continued ever since 
their esteem for me. 

I 



i88 FRANKLIN. 

T had not long returned from Burlington before our 
printing materials arrived from London. I settled 
my accounts with Keimer, and quitted him, with his 
own consent, before he had any knowledge of our 
plan. We found a house to let near the market. We 
took it, and to render the rent less burthen some (it 
was then 20/. a-year, but I have since known it to let 
for 100/), we admitted Thomas Godfrey, a glazier, 
with his family, who eased us of a considerble part 
of it, and with him we agreed to board. 

We had no sooner unpacked our letters and put our 
press in order, than a person of my acquaintance, 
George House, brought us a countryman, whom he 
had met in the street inquiring for a printer. Our 
money was almost exhausted by tlie number of things 
we had been obliged to procure. The five shillings 
we received from this countryman, the first fruit of 
our earnings, coming so seasonably, gave me more 
pleasure than any sum I have since gained j and the 
recollection of the gratitude I felt on this occasion to 
George House, has rendered me often more disposed 
than perhaps 1 should otherwise have been to encou- 
rage young beginners in trade. 

There are in every country morose beings, who are 
always prognosticating ruin. There was one of this 
stamp in Philadelphia. He was a man of fortune, de- 
clined in years, had an air of wisdom, and a very 
grave manner of speaking. His name was Samuel 
Mickle. I knew him not ; but he stopped one day at 
my door, and asked me if I was the young man who 
had lately opened a new printing-house ? Upon my 
answering in the affirmative, he said he was very sor- 
ry for me, as it was an expensive undertaking, and the 
money that had been laid out upon it would be lost, 
Philadelphia being a place falling into decay, its inha- 
bitants having all, or nearly all of them, been obliged 
to call together their creditors. That he knew, from 
undoubted fact, the circumstances which might lead 
us to suppose the contrary, such as new buildings, 
and the advanced price of rent, to be deceitful ap- 
pearances, 



rRANKLIN. 189 

pearances, which in reality contributed to hasten the 
general ruin ; and he gave me so long a detail of mis- 
fortunes actually existing, or which were soon to take 
place, that he left me almost in a state of despair.— . 
Had I known this man before I entered into trade, 1 
should doubtless never have ventured. He, however, 
continued to live in this place of decay, and to declaim 
in the same style, refusing for many years to buy a 
house, because all was going to wreck ; and, in tiie 
end, I had the satisfaction to see him pay hve times 
as much for one as it would cost him had he purchas- 
ed it when he first began his lamentations. 

I ought to have related, that, during the autumn of 
the preceding year, I had united the majority of well- 
informed persons into a club, which we called by the 
name of the Ju7ito, and the object of which was to im- 
prove our understandings. We met every triday. 
The regulations I drew up obliged every member to 
propose, in his mm, one or more questions upon some 
point of morality, politics, or philosophy, which were 
to be discussed by the society ; and to read once in 
in three months, an essay of his own composition, on 
whatever subject he pleased. Our debates were un- 
der the direction of a president, and were to be dictat- 
ed only by a sincere desire of truth, the pleasure of 
disputing, and the vanity of triumph having no share 
in the business ; and in order to prevent undue warmth 
every expression which impUed obstinate adherence 
to an opinion, and all direct contradiction, were pro- 
hibited, under small pecuniary penalties. 

The first members of our club were Joseph Breintnal, 
whose occupation was that of a scrivener. He was a 
middle-i'ged man, of a good natural disposition, strong- 
ly attached to his friends, a greatlover of poetry, read- 
\n<y every thing that came in his way, and writing to- 
lerably well, ingenious in many little trifles, and of an 
aorreeable conversation. 

Thomas Godfrey, a skilful tho' self-taught mathe- 
matician, and who was afterwards the inventor of 
what goes by the name of Hadley's dial ; but he had 



190 FRANKLIN. 

little knowledge out of his own line, and was insup- 
portable in company, always requiring, like the majo- 
rity of mathematicians that have fallen in my way, 
•^n unusual precision in every thing that is said, con- 
tinually contradicting, or making trifling distinctions ; 
a sure way of defeating all the ends of conversation. — 
He very soon left us. 

Nicholas Scull, a surveyor, and who became af- 
terwards Surveyor-general. He was fond of books, 
and wrote verses. 

William Parsons brought up to the trade of a shoe- 
maker ; but who, having a taste for reading, had ac- 
quired a profound knowledge of mathematics. He first 
studied them with a view to astrology, and was after- 
wards the first to laugh at his folly. He also became 
Surveyor-general. 

William Mawgridge, a joiner, and very excellent 
mechanic, and in other respects a man of solid un- 
ttlerstanding. 

Hugh Meredith, Stephen Potts and George Webb, 
apprentices to Keimer. 

Robert Grace, a young man of fortune, generous, 
animated and witty, fond of epigrams, but more fond 
of his friends. 

And, lastly, William Coleman, at that time a mer- 
chant's clerk, and nearly of my own age." He had a 
cooler and clearer head, a better heart, and more 
scrupulous 'morals, than almost any other person I 
ever met with. He became a very respectable mer- 
chant, and one of our provincial judges. Our friend- 
ship subsisted, without interruption, for more than 40 
years, till the period of his death, and the club conti- 
Tiued to exist almost as long. 

This was tlie best school of politics and philosophy 
that then existed in the province ; for our questions, 
which were read a week previous to t)\eir discussion, 
induced us to peruse attentively such books as were 
fvritten upon the subjects proposed, that we might be 
able to speak upon them more pertinently. We thus 
ac^^uired the habit of conversing more agreeably ; eve- 
ry 



FRANKLIN, i j>, 

ry object being discussed conformably to our regula- 
tions, and in a manner to prevent mutual disgust. 

To this circumstance may be attributed the long dura- 
tion of the club, which 1 shall have frequent occasion 
to mention as I proceed. 

I have introduced it here, as being one of the means 
on which I had to count for my success in my busi- 
ness, every member exerting himself to procure M'ork 
for us. Breintnal, among others, obtained for us, on 
the part of the Quakers, the printmg of 40 sheets of 
their history- the rest of which was to be done by 
Keimer. Our execution of this work v/as by no means 
masterly, as the price was very low. It was in folio, 
upon Propatria paper, and in the Pica letter, with 
heavy notes in the smallest type. I composed a sheet 
a day, and Meredith put it to press. It was frequent- 
ly 1 1 o'clock at night, sometimes later, before I had 
finished my distribution for the next day's task ; for 
the little things which our friends occasionally sent 
us, kept us back in this work; but I was so determin- 
ed to compose a sheet a day, that one evening, when 
my lorm was imposed, and my day's work, as I tho't, 
at an end, an accident having broken this form, and' 
deranged two complete folio pages, I immediately 
distributed, and composed them iuiew before I went 
to bed. 

This unwearied industry, which was perceived by 
our neighbours, began to acquire us reputation and 
credit. I learned, among other things, that our new 
printing-house being the subject of conversation at a 
club of merchants, who met every evening, it was the 
general opinion it would fail, there being already two 
printing-houses in the town, Keimer's and Bradford's. 
But Dr. Bard, whom you and I had occasion to see, 
many years after, at his native town of St. Andrew's, 
in Scotland, was of a different opinion. " The indus- 
try of this Franklin (said he) is superior to any thing 
of the kind 1 have ever witnessed. 1 see him still at 
work when I return from the club at night, and he is 
at it again in the morning before his neighbours are 

out 



192 FRANKLIN^ 

out of bed." This account struck the rest of the as- 
sembly, and shortly after, one of its members came 
to our house, and offered to supply us with articles of 
stationary ; but we wished not as yet to embarrass 
ourselves with keeping a shop. It is not for the sake 
of applause that I enter so freely into the particulars 
of my industry, but that such of my descendants as 
shall read these memoirs, may know the use of this 
virtue, by seeing, in the recital of my life, the effects 
it operated in my favour. 

George Webb, having found a friend who lent him 
the necessary sum to buy out his time with Keimer, 
came one day to offer himself to us as a journeyman. 
We could not employ him immediately ; but I fool- 
ishly told him, under the rose, that 1 intended shortly 
to publish a new periodical paper, and that we should 
then have work for him. My hopes of success, which 
I imparted to him, were founded on the circumstance, 
that the only paper we had in Philadelphia at that 
time, and which Bradford printed, was a paltry thing, 
miserably conducted, in no respect amusing, and yet 
was profitable. Webb betrayed my secret to Keimer, 
who, to prevent me, immediately published the Pros- 
pectus of a paper that he intended to institute himself, 
and in which Webb was to be engaged. 

I was exasperated at this proceeding, and, with a 
view to counteract them, not being able at present to 
institute my own paper, I wrote some humorous pieces 
in Bradford's, under the title of the Busy Body, and 
which was continued for several months by Breintnal. 
I hereby fixed the attention of the public upon Brad- 
ford's paper; and the Prospectus of Keimer, which 
he turned into ridicule, was treated with contempt. 
He began, notwithstanding, his paper, and after con- 
tinuing it for 9 months, having at most not more than 
90 subscribers, he offered it me for a mere trifle. I 
had for some time been ready for such an engage- 
ment ; I therefore instantly took it upon myself, imd 
in a few years it proved extremely profitable to me. 

Our 



FRANKLIN. 193 

'Our first number produced no other efTect than any 
other paper which had appeared in the province, as to 
type and priming; but some remarks, in my peculiar 
style of writinrj, upon the dispute which then prevail- 
ed between Governor Burnet and the Massachusetts 
Assembly, struck some persons, as above mediocrity, 
caused ihe paper, and its editors, to be talked of, and 
in a few weeks induced them to become our subscrib- 
ers. Many others followed their example, and our 
subscription began to increase. This was one of the 
first good effects of the pains I had taken to learn to 
put my ideas on paper. I derived this further advan- 
tage from it, that the leading men in the place, see- 
ing, in the author of this publication, a man so well 
able to use his pen, thought it right to encourage and 
patronise me. 

The votes, laws, and other public pieces, were print- 
ed by Bradford. An address of the house of Assem- 
bly to the Governor, had been executed by him in a 
very coarse and incorrect manner. We re-printed it 
M ith accuracy and neatness, and sent a copy to every 
member; they perceived the dilf^^rence, and it so 
strengthened the iulluence of our friends in the As- 
sembly, that we were nominated its printer for the fol- 
lowing year. 

Among these fiiends I ought not to forget one 
member in pr.rticular, Mr. Hamilton, v/hom I have 
mentioned in a former part of my narrative,' and who' 
was now returned from England. He warmly inte- 
rested himself forme on this occasion, as he did like- 
wise on many others afterwards, having continued his 
kindness to me till his death. 

About this period Mr. Vei^non reminded me of the 
debt! owed liim, but without pressing me for pay- 
ment. I wrote him a handsome letter on the occa- 
sion begging him to wait a little longer, to which he 
consented; and as soon as I was able I paid him prin- 
cipal and interest, with many expressions ofgratiUide: 
so that this error of my life was in a maun'er atoned 
for. K 

But 



194 FRANKLIN, 

But another trouble now happened to me, which I 
had not the smallest reason to expect. Meredith's fa- 
ther, who, according to our agreement, was to defray 
the whole expence of our printing materials, had only 
paid 100/. Another hundred was still due, and the 
merchant being tired of waiting commenced a suit a- 
gainst us. We bailed the action, with the melancho- 
ly prospect, that, if the money was not forth-coming 
at the time fixed, the affair would come to issue, judg- 
ment, be put in execution, our delightful hopes be anni- 
hilated, and ourselves entirely ruined ; as the type and 
press must be sold, perhaps at half their value, to pay 
the debt. 

In this distress, two real friends, whose generous 
conduct I have never forgotten, and never shall forget 
while I retain the remembrance of any thing, came to 
me separately, without the knowledge of each other, 
and without my having applied to them. Each offer- 
ed me whatever sum might be necessary to take the 
business into my own hands, if the thing was practica- 
ble, as they did not like I should continue in partner- 
ship with Meredith, who, they said, was frequently 
seen drunk in the streets, and gambling at ale-houses, 
which very much injured our credit. These friends 
■were William Coleman and Robert Grace. I paid 
the partnership debts, and continued the business on 
my own account, taking care to inform the public, by 
advertisement, of the partnership being dissolved. This 
•Wiis, 1 think, in the year 1729, or thereabout. 

Nearly at the same period the people demanded a 
new emission of paper money, the existing and on- 
ly one that had taken place in the province, and which 
amounted to 15,000/. being soon to expire. The 
wealthy inhabitants, prejudiced against every sort of 
paper currency, from the fear of its depreciation, of 
which there had been an instance in New-England, 
to the injury of its holders, strongly opposed the mea- 
sure. We had discussed this atfair in our Junto, in 
which I was on the side of the new emission ; con- 
vinced that the first small sum fabricated hi 1723, had 

done 



niANKLIN. 19J 

done much good in the province, by favouring com- 
merce, industry and population, since all the houses 
were now inhabited,and many others building ; where- 
as I remembered to have seen, wJicn first I paraded 
the streets of Philadelphia, eating my roll, the majori- 
ty of those in Walnut-street, Second-street, Fourth- 
street, as well as a great number in Chesnut and other 
streets, with papers on them, signifying that they were 
to be let, which made me think at the time that the 
inhabitants of the town Avere deserting it one after 
another. 

Our debates made me so fully master of the sub- 
ject, that I wrote and pubHshed an anonym.ous pam- 
phlet, entitled, '' An Enquiry into the Nature and 
Necessity of a Paper Currency." It was very well 
received by the lower and middling class of people ; 
but It displeased the opulent, as it increased the cla- 
mour m favour of the new emission Having, how- 
ever, no writer among them capable of answering- it, 
then- opposition became less violent; and there beino- 
HI the House of Assembly a majority for the measure 
It passed. The friends I had acquired in the House 
persuaded that I had done the country essentird ser' 
vice on this occasion, rewarded me by givini^ me the 
printmg of the bills. It was a lucrative emi^oyment, 
and proved a very seasonable help to me ; another ad- 
vantage which I derived from having habituated -my- 
sell to write. ^ 

Time and experience so fully demonstrate.! tl,e uti- 
Ii.y of paper currency, tl,at it never experienced any 

,,0,000/. and m the year 1 439, to 80,000/. It l,as since 
risen, dm-mg the last war, to 350,000/. trade, build! 

S ^ Ifl'^i''*'"" ''^""S i» the i.Uerval con in.mlly 
ncreased but I am now convinced that there are lim t^ 
beyond winch paper „,oney would be prejudicial 

I soon after obtained, by the influence of my friend 
Hamdton, the pruning of tl,e Newcastle paper more 
another protuable work, as I then tho„|h T^ 
tJnngs appearing great to persons of moderL fortune • 

and 



196 FRANKLIN. 

and they were really great to me, as proving cyreat en- 
couragements. He also procured me the j)nnting oi 
the laws and votes of that government, which 1 re- 
tained us long as I continued in the business. 

I now opened a small stationer's shop. I kept 
bonds and agreements of all kinds, drawn up in a 
more accurate form than had yet been seen in thatpavt 
of the world, a work in which I was assisted by my 
friend Brcintnal. 1 liadalso paper, parchment, paste- 
board, books, See. One Whitemash, an excellent 
compositor, whom I had known in London, came to 
offer himself. I engaged him, and he continued con- 
stantly to work with me ; I ali^o took an apprentice, 
the son of Aquila Rose. 

I began to pay, by degrees, the debt I had contract- 
ed, ancl in order to insure my credit and character as 
a tradesman, I took care not only to be really indus- 
trious and frugal, but also to avoid every appearance 
of the contrary. I was plainly dressed, and never 
seen in any place of public amusement. I never went 
a i!shing or hunting. A book, indeed, enticed me 
sometimes from my work, but it was seldom, by stealth, 
and occasioned no scandal ; and to show that I was not 
above my profession, I conveyed home sometimes in 
a wheelbarrow the paper I purchased at the. ware- 
houses. 

I thus obtained the reputation of being an industri- 
ous young man, and very punctual in my payments. 
The merchants who imported articles of stationary so- 
licited my custom, others otlered to furnish me with 
books, and my little trade went on prosperously. 

Meanv/hile the business and credit of Keimer di- 
minishing every day, he was at last forced to sell his 
stock to satisfy his creditors, and he betook himself to 
Earbadoes, where he lived some time in a very im- 
poverished state. His apprentice, David Harry, whom 
I had instructed while 1 worked with Keimer, having 
bought his materials, succeerlcd him in the business. 
1 was apprehensive at first of finding in Harry a pow- 
eifui competitor, as he was allied to an opulent and 

re- 



FRANKLIN. 197 

respectable family; I therefore proposed a partner- 
ship, which, happily for me, he rejected Avith disdain. 
He was extremely proud, thought himself a fine gen- 
tleman, lived extravagantly, and pursued amusements 
which suffered him to be scarcely ever at home ; of 
consequence, he became in debt, neglected his busi- 
ness, and business neglected him. Finding in a short 
lime nothing to be done in the country, he followed 
V Keimer to Barbadoes, carrying his printing materials 
with him. There the apprentice employed his old 
5-naster as a journey man. They were continually 
quarreling, and Harry r,till getting in debt, was oblig- 
ed at last to sell his press and types, and return to his 
old occupation of husbandry in Pennsylvania. The 
person who purchased theni employed Keimer to ma- 
nage the business, but he died a few years after. 

I had now at Philadelphia no competitor but Brad- 
ford, who, being in easy circumstances, did not engage 
in the printing of books, except now and then as 
workmen chanced to orfer themselves, and was not 
anxious to extend Iiis trade. He had, however, one 
advantage over me, as he had the direction of the post- 
ollice, and was, of consequence, supposed to have bet- 
ter opportimitics of obtaining news. His paper was 
also supposed to be more advantageous to advertising 
customers, and, in consequence of that supposition, 
his advertisements were much more numerous than 
mine; tJiis was a s(/urce of great profit to him, and 
disadvantageous to me. It was to 110 purpose that I 
really procured other papers, and distributed my own, 
by means of the post, the puljlic took for granted my 
inabihty in tliis respect, and 1 was indeed unable to 
conquer it in any other mode than by bribing the post- 
boys, who served me only by stealth, Bradford being 
so illiberal as to forbid thern. This treatment of his 
excited my resentment, and my disgust wa*; so rooted, 
that v/hen I afterwards succeeded him in the poot-of- 
fjce, I took care to avoid copying his example. 

1 had hitherto continued to board with Godfrey, 
<who, with his wife and children, occupied part of my 

iiouse, 



298 FRANKLIN. 

house, and luilf the shop for his business, at wliicli 
indeed he worked very little, being always absorbed 
by mathematics. Mrs, Godfrey formed a wish of 
marrying me to the daughter of one of her relations. 
She contrived various opportunities of bringing us to- 
gether, till slie saw that I was captivated, wliich was 
not difficult, the lady in question possessing great per- 
sonal merit. The parents encouraged my addresses, 
by inviting me continually to sui)per, and leaving us 
together, till at last it was time to come to an explana- 
tion. Mrs. Godfrey undertook to negociate our little 
treaty. I gave her to understand that I expected to 
receive with tlie young lady a sum of money that 
would enable me at least to discharge the remainder 
of my debt for my printing materials. It was then, I 
believe, not more than 1001. She brought me for an- 
swer, that they had no such sum at their disposal. I 
observed, that it might easily be obtained by a mort- 
gage on their house. The reply to this was, after a 
ievv days interval, that they did not approve of the 
match ; that they had consulted Bradford, and found 
that the business of a printer was not lucrative ; that 
jiiy letters would soon be worn out, and must be su})- 
T)lied by new ones ; that Keimer and Harry had fail- 
ed, and that, probably, 1 sliould do so too. Accord- 
ingly, he forbade me the house, and the young lady 
-was con lined. I know not if they had really changed 
their minds, or if it was merely an artiFxe, supposing 
our afiections to be too far engaged to desist, and that 
we should contrive to marry secretly, which would 
leave them at liberty to give or not as they pleased — 
But, suspecting this motive, I never went again to 

their house. 

As a neighbour ar.d old acquaintance, I kept up a 
friendly intimacy with the family of Miss Read, ller 
parents retained an aifeclion for me from the time of 
my lodging in their house. I was often invited thi- 
ther, they consulted me about their atfairs, and I had 
been sometimes serviceable to them. I was touched 
with the unhappy situation of their daughter, who was 

ul- 



FRANTCUN. i(?9 

almost always melancholy, and continually seeking 
solitude. I regarded my ibrgctfulness and inconstan-^ 
cy, during my abode in I.ondon, as the principal cause 
of her misfortune, tho' her mother had the candour 
to attribute the fault to herselt, ratlierthan to me, be- 
cause after having prevented our marriage previous 
to my departure, she had induced her to marry ano- 
ther in my absence. 

Our mutual affection revived, but there existed 
great obstacles to our union. Her marriage was con- 
sidered, indeed, as not being valid, the man having, 
as it was said, a former wife still living in England ; 
but of this it was difficult to obtain a proof at so great 
a distance : and tho' a report prevailed of liis being 
dead, yet we had no certainty of it ; and supposing it 
to be true, he had left many debts, for the payment of 
■which his successor might be sued. We ventured, 
nevertheless, in si)ite of all these difficulties, and I 
married her on tlie 1st of September, 1730. None 
of the inconveniences we had feared hap])ened to us. 
She proved to me a good and faithful companion, and 
contributed essentially to the success of my shop.-— 
We prospered together, and it was our mutual study- 
to render each other happy. Thus I corrected, as 
well as I could, this great error of my youth. 

Our club was not at that time established at a ta- 
vern. We held our meetings at the house of Mr. 
Grace, v»'ho appropiiated a room to the purpose. — 
Some member observed, one day, that, as our books 
were frequently quoted in the course of our discus- 
sions, it would be convenient to have them collected 
in the room in which we assembled, in order to be 
consulted ui)on occasion ; and that, by thus forming a 
common library of our individual collections, each 
would have the advantage of using the books of all the 
other members, which would nearly be the same as 
if he possessed them all himself. The idea was ap- 
j)roved, and we accordingly brought such books as we 
thought we could spare, which were placed at the end 
of the club-room. They amounted not to so many 

as 



200 FRANKLIN. 

as we expected, and tho' we made considerable use 
of them, yet some inconveniencies resulting from 
want of care, it was agreed, after about a year, to de- 
stroy the collection, and each took away such books 
as belonged to hiai. 

It was now that I nrst started the idea of establish- 
ing, by subscription, a public library. 1 drew up the 
proposals, had them ingrossed in form by Brockden 
the attorney, and my project succeeded. 

[Thus far goes the narrative by the Do<J\or's own hand, 
and every reader of talk muft be pUafed with the frank in- 
j:;enirity and beautiful fimplicity of the writer — What follows 

was written by Dr. Stuber. It muft be a matter of regret, 

that the public has been deprived not only of the continua- 
tion of the Dr's life by himfelf, but alfo of the whole of his 
valuable papers, from which fo much information and in- 
ftrudlion were expeiTted. Shortly after his death, his papers 
•were fent to London, and there fold to a bookfeller for 5000I. 
from whom, it is afTerted, the EngHQi. Minifler bought thcn\ 
for I c, cool. — We have a right to believe this ac.;ount, as tlie 
papers have never fince been heard of. *] 

THE promotion of literature had bsen little attend- 
ed to in Pennsylvania. Most of the inhabitants were 
too much immersed m business to think of scientific 
pursuits, and those few whose inclinations led them 
to study, foimd it diPacult to gratify them, from the 
want of suiliciently large libraries. In such circum- 
stances, the establishment of a public library was an 
important event. This was first set on foot by Frank- 
lin, about the year 1731. Fifty persons subscribed 
40j-. each, and agreed to pay 10;. annually. The num- 
ber increased, and in 1742 the company was incorpo- 
rated by the name of " The Library Company of Phi- 
kidelpia." Several other companies were formed in 
this city, in Imitation of it. These were ail at length 
united with the Library Company of Philadelphin, 
which thus received a considerable accession of books 
and property. It now contains about 9000 volumes, 

on 

* We have likewife a right to believe, that if the WAsir- 
INGTON papers had been lent to Loudon, they alio wo ukl 
have been fmother'd by State policjf. 



FRANKLIN. 201 

on all subjects, a philosophical apparatus, and a good 
beginning towards a collection of natural and anilicial 
curiosities, besides landed property of considerable va- 
lue. The Company have lately built an elegant house 
in Fifth-street, in the front of which is erected a mar- 
ble statue of their founder, Benjamin Franklin. 

The beneficial elFects of this institution was soon 
evident. The cheapness of terms rendered it accessi- 
ble to every one. Its advantages were not confined 
to the opulent. The citizens in the middle and lower 
walks of life were equally partakers of them. Hence 
a degree of information was extended amongst all 
classes of people, which is very unusual in other places. 
The example was soon followed. Lil)raries were esta- 
blished in various places, and they are now become 
very numerous in the United States, and particularly 
in Pennsylvania. It is to be hoped that they will be 
still more widely extended, and that information will 
be every wliere increased. This will be the best se- 
curity for maintaining our liberties. A nation of well- 
informed men, who have been taught to know and 
prize the rights which God has givew them, cannot 
be enslaved. It is in the regions of Ignorance that 
Tyranny reigns. It flies before the light of Science. 
Let the citizens of America, then, encourage institu- 
tions calculated to diffuse knowledge amongst the peo- 
ple, and, amongst these, public libraries are not the 
least important. 

In 1732, Franklin began to publish Poor Richard's 
Almanack. This was remarkable for the numerous 
and valuable concise maxims which it contained, all 
tending to exhort to industry and frugality. It was 
continued for many years. In the almanack for the 
last year, all the maxims were collected in an address 
to the reader, entitled, The Way to WealUu This has 
been translated into various languages, and inserted in 
different publications. This address contains, per- 
haps, the best practical system of economy tl)at ever 
has appeared. It is written in a manner intelligible 
to every one, and which cannot fail of convincing eve- 

K 3 vy 



loi FRANKLIN. 

ry reader of the justice and propriety of the remarks 
and advice whicJi it contains. The demand for this 
iihnanack was so great, that 10,000 has been sold in 
one year, which must be considered as a very large 
number, especially wlien we reflect, that this country 
Avas, at that time, but thinly peopled. It cannot be 
doubted, that the salutary maxims contained in these 
almanacks must have made a favourable impression 
upon many of the readers of them. 

It was not long before Franklin entered upon his po- 
litical career. In the year 1736, he w^as appointed 
Clerk to the General Assembly of Pennsylvania, and 
was re-elected by succeeding Assemblies for several 
years, until he was chosen a representative for the ci- 
ty of Philadelphia. 

Bradford was possessed of some advantages over 
riianklin, by being Post-master, thereby having^ an op- 
portunity of circulating his paper more extensively, 
and thus rendering it a better vehicle for advertise- 
ments, Sec. Franklin, in his turn, enjoyed these ad- 
vantages, by being appointed Post-master of Philadel- 
phia, in 1737. Bradford, while in office, had acted 
ungenerously towards Franklin, preventing, as much 
as possible, the circulation of his paper. He had 
now an opportunity of retaliating, but his nobleness 
of soul prevented him from making use of it. 

There is nothing more dangerous to growing cities 
than iires. Other causes operate slowly, and almost 
imperceptibly ; but these, in a moment, render abor- 
tive the labours of years. On this account there 
should be, in all cities, ample provisions to prevent 
Iires from spreading. Franklin early saw the necessi- 
ty of these, and about the year 1738, formed the first 
ii re-company in this city. This example was soon 
followed by others, and there are now numerous fire- 
■companies in the city and liberties. To these may 
be attributed, in a great degree, the activity in extin- 
guishing hres, for which the citizens of Philadelpliia 
are distinguished, and the inconsiderable damage which 
this city has sustained from this cause. Some tima 

after 



FRANKLIN. Joj 

after, Franklin sut^gested the plan of an association 
for insuring- houses from losses by fiie, ubicli ^.a3 
adopted, and the association continues to this day — 
The advantages experienced from it have been c:reat. 

Pursuits of a ditlerent nature now occupied the 
greatest part of Franklin's attention for some years. 
He engaged in a course of electrical experiments, with 
all the ardour and thirst for discovery which charac- 
terised the philosophers of that day. Of all the 
branches of experimental philosophy, electricity had 
been least explored. The attractive power of amber 
is mentioned by Thcophrastus and Pliny, and, from 
them, by later naturalists. In the year 1600, Gilbert, 
an English physician, enlarged considerably the cata- 
logue of substances which have the property of attract- 
ing light bodies. Boyle, Otto Guericke, a burgomas- 
ter of Magdeburg, celebrated as the Inventor of the 
air-pump, Dr. Wall, and Sir Isaac Newton, added 
some facts. Guericke lirst observed the repulsive 
power of electricity, and the light and noise produced 
by it. In 1709, liawkesbee communicated some im- 
portant observations and experiments to the world. 
For several years ehclriclty was entirely neglected, 
until Mr. Grey applied himself to it, in 1728, with 
great assiduity. lie, and his friend Mr. Wheeler, 
made a great variety of experiments ; in which they 
demonstrated, that electricity may be communicated 
from one body to another, even without being in con- 
tact, and in this way may be conducted to a great 
distance. Mr. (irey afterwards found, that, by sus- 
pending rods of iron liy silk or hair lines, and bring- 
ing an excited tvibe under them, sparks might be drawn, 
and a ligjit perceived at the exlremities, in the dark. 
M. duFaye, intendant of the French King's gardeiis, 
made a number of experiments, which added not a lit- 
tle to the science. fie made the discovery of two 
kinds of electricity, wdiich he culled vitrous and resin- 
ous, the former ])roduced by rul)bing glass, the latler 
from excited sulphur, seuling-wax, See. But this idea 
he afterwards gave up as erroneous. Between the 

ycari 



264 FRANKLIN. 

years 1739 and 1742, Desaguliers made a number of 
experiments, but added little of importance. He first 
used the terms conductors and electrics per se. In 
17'42, several ingenious Germans engaged in this sub- 
ject. Of these the principal were, professor Boze, of 
Wittemberg — professor Winkler, of Leipsic — Gor- 
don, a Scotch Benedictine monk, professor of philo- 
sophy at Erfurt — and Dr. Ludolf, of lierlin. The 
result of their researches astonished the philosophers 
of Europe. Their apparatus was large, and by means 
of it they were enabled to collect large quantities of 
electricity, and thus to produce phenomena which had 
been hitherto unobserved. They killed small birds, 
and set spirits on fire. Their experiments excited 
the curiosity of other philosophers. Collinson, about 
the year 1745, sCnt to the Library Company of Phila- 
delphia an account of these experiments, together with 
a tube, and directed how to use it. Franklin, with 
some of his fiiends, immediately engaged in a course 
of experiments, the result of which is well known. — 
He was enabled to make a number of important dis- 
coveries, and to ])ropose theories to account for various 
phenomena, which have been universally adopted, and 
which bid fair to endure for ages. His observations 
lie communicated, in a series of letters, to his friend 
Collinson, the first of which is dated March 28, 1747.. 
In these he makes known the })ower of points in 
drawing and throwing off the electrical matter, which 
had hitherto escaped the notice of electricians. He 
also made the grand discovery of a plus and minus, or 
of a positive and negative state of electricity. We 
give him the honour of this, v.ithout hesitation, altho' 
the English have claimed it for their countryman, Dr. 
Watson. Watson's paper is dated January 21, 1748. 
Franklin's July 11, 1747, several months prior. 

It was not until the summer of 1752, that he was 
enabled to complete his unparalellcd discovery by ex- 
periment. The plan which he originally proposed 
was to erect on some high tower, or other elevated 
pliice, a centry-box, from which should rise a pointed 

iron 



I'RANKLIN. 20J 

Iron rod, Insnkted by being fixed in a cake of resin. 
Electriiied clouds passin,^ over this would, he conceiv- 
ed, impart to it a portion of their electricity, which 
would be rendered evident to the senses by sparks be- 
ing emitted, when a key, a knuckle, or other conduct- 
or was presented to it. Philadelphia, at this time, af- 
forded no opportunity of trjdng* an experiment of this 
kind. Whilst Franklin was waiting for the erection 
of a spire, it occurred to him, that he might have 
more free access to the region of clouds by means of 
a common kite. He prepared one by attaching two 
cross sticks to a silk handkerchief, v/hich would not 
sutler so much from the rain as paper. To his up- 
right stick was affixed an iron point. The string was, 
as usual, of hemp, except the lov/er end, which was 
silk. Where the hempen string terminated, a key 
v/as fastened. With this apparatus, on the appear- 
ance of a thunder-gust approaching, he went out in- 
to the Commons, accompanied by his son, to whom 
alone he communicated his intentions, well knowing 
the ridicule which, too generally for the interest of 
Science, awaits unsuccessful experiments in philoso- 
phy. He placed himself under a shed, to avoid the 
rain. His kite was raised — a thunder-cloud passed 
over it — no sign of electricity appeared — he almost 
despaired of success — when, suddenly, he observed 
the loose fibres of his string to move towards an erect 
position. He now presented his knuckle to the key, 
and received a strong spark. How exquiaite'^must his 
sensations have been at this moment ! On this expe- 
riment depended the fate of his theory. If he suc- 
ceeded, his name would rank high among those who 
have improved science ; if he failed, he must be ine- 
vitably subjected to the derision of mankind ; or, what 
is worse, their pity, as a well-meaning man, but a 
weak, silly projector. The anxiety with which he 
looked for the result of his experiment may easily be 
conceived. Doubts and despair had begun to prevail, 
when the fact was ascertained in so clear a manner, 
hat even the most incredulous could not withhold 

their 



>o6 FRANKLIN. 

their assent. Repeated sparks were drawn from the 
key, a phial was charged, a shock given, and all the 
experiments made which are usually performed with 
electricity. 

By these experiments, Franklin's theory was esta- 
blished in the most firm manner. When the truth of 
it could no longer be doubted, the vanity of men en- 
deavoured to detract from its merit. That an Ame- 
rican, an inhabitant of the obscure city of Philadel- 
phia, the name of which was hardly known, should 
be able to make discoveries, and to frame theories, 
which had escaped the notice of the enlightened phi- 
losophers of Europe, was too mortifying to be admit- 
ted. He must certainly have taken the idea from 
some body else. An American, a being of an infe- 
rior order, make discoveries 1 — Impossible. It was 
said, that the Abbe Nollet, in 1748, had suggested 
the idea of the similarity of lightning and electricity, 
in his Le9ons de Physique. It is true, tliat the Abbe 
mentions the idea, but he throws it out as a bare con- 
jecture, and proposes no mode of ascertaining the truth 
of it. He himself acknowledges, that Franklin first 
entertained the bold thought of bringing lightning 
from the heavens, by means of pointed rods fixed in 
the air. The similarity ot electricity and lightning is 
so stronp;, that we need not be surprised at notice be- 
ing taken of it, as soon as electrical phenomena be- 
came familiar. "We find it mentioncil by Dr. Wail 
and Mr. Grey, while tlie science was in its infancy. 
But the honour of forming a regular theory of thun- 
der-gusts, of suggesting a mode of determining the 
truth of it by experiments, and of putting these ex- 
periments in practice, and thus establishing his theory 
upon a firm and solid basis, is incontestibly due to 
Franklin. D'Alibard, who made the experiments in 
France, says, that he only followed the track which 
Franklin had pointed out. 

In September, 1752, Franklin entered upon a course 
of experiments, to determine the state of electricity 
in the cloud:i. From a number of experiments he 

formed 



FRANKLIN. 207 

formed Ibis conclusion, " that the clouds of a thun- 
der-gust are most commonly in a negative state of 
electricity, but sometimes in a positive state," and 
from this it follows, as a necessary consequence, " that, 
for the most part, in thunder-strokes, it is the earth 
that strikes into the clouds, and not the clouds that 
strike into the earth." The letter containing these 
observations is dated in September, 1753, and yet the 
discovery of ascending thunder has been said to be of 
a modern date, and has been attributed to the Abbe 
Bertholon, who published his memoirs on the subject 
in 1776. 

Franklin's letters have been translated into most of 
the European languages, and into Latin. In propor- 
tion as they have become known, his principlss have 
been adopted. Some opposition was made to his the- 
ories, particulai'ly by the Abbe Nollet, who was, how- 
ever, but feebly supported, whilst the first philosoph- 
ers of Europe stepped forth in defence of Franklin's 
principles, amongst whom D'Alibard and Beccaria 
were the most distinguished. The opposition has 
gradually ceased, and the Franklinian system is now 
universally adopted where Science flourishes. 

In the year 1745, Franklin published an account of 
his new-invented Pennsylvania fire-place, in which he 
minutely and accurately states the advantages and dis- 
advantages of different kinds of fire-places, and endea- 
vours to shew that the one which he descril)es is to be 
])referred to any other. This contrivance has given 
rise to the open stoves now in general use, which, 
liowever, difter from it in construction, particularly 
in not having an air-box at the back, thro' which a 
constant supply of air, warmed in its passage, is thrown 
into the room. The advantages of this are, that, as 
a stream of warm air is continually flowing into the 
room, less fuel is necessary to preserve a prop'::r tem- 
perature, and the room may be so tightened as that 
no air may enter through cracks, the conserjuences of 
which are colds, tooth-aches, S;c. 



2oS FRANKLIN, 

Altho' philosophy was a principal object of Frank- 
lin's pursuit for several years, he confined himself not . 
to this. In the year 1747, he became a member of 
the General Assembly of Pennsylvania, as a burgess 
for the city of Philadelphia. Warm disputes at this 
time subsisted between the Assembly and the Pro- 
prietaries, each contending for what they conceived 
to be their just rights. Franklin, a friend to the 
rights of man from his infancy, soon distinguished 
himself as a steady opponent of the unjust schemes 
of the Proprietaries. He was soon looked up to as 
the head of the opposition, and to him have been at- 
tributed many of the spirited replies of the Assembly 
to the messages of the Governors. His influence hi 
the body was very great. This arose not from any 
superior powers of eloquence ; he spoke but seldom, 
and he never was known to make any thing like an 
elaborate harangue. His speeches often consisted of 
a single sentence, or of a well-told story, the moral 
of which wEis always obviously to the point. He never 
attempted the fiowery fields of oratory. His manner 
v/as plain and mild. His style in speaking was, like 
that of his writings, simple, unadorned, and remarka- 
bly concise. With this plain manner, and his pene- 
trating and solid judgment, he was able to confound 
the most eloquent and subtle of his adversaries, to 
confirm the opinions of his friends, and to make con- 
verts of the unprejudiced who had opposed him. — 
With a single observation, he has rendered of no 
avail an elegant and lengthy discourse, and determin- 
ed the fate of a question of importance. 

But he was not contented with thus supporting the 
ri'>-hts' of the people. He wished to render them per- 
manently secure, which can only be done by making 
their value properly known, and this must depend up- 
on increasing and extending information to every class 
of men. We have already seen that he was the 
founder of the public libraryjwhich contributed greatly 
towards improving the minds of the citizens. But 
this was not sufficient. The schools then subsisting 

were, 



FRANKLIN. 209 

AVere, in general, of little utility. The teachers were 
men ill-qualified for the important duty which they 
had undertaken ; and, after all, nothing move could 
be obtained than the rudiments of a common Eng- 
lish education. Franklin drew up a plan of an aca- 
demy, to be erected in the city of Philadelphia, suit- 
ed to " the state of an infant country ;" but in this, 
as in all his plans, he confined not his views to the 
present time only. He looked forward to the period 
when an institution on an enlarged plan would become 
' necessary. With this view he considered his acade- 
my as " a foundation for posterity to erect a seminary 
of learning, more extensive, and suitable to future 
circumstances " In pursuance of this plan, the con- 
stitutions were drawn up, and signed on the 13th of 
November, 1749. In these, 24 of the most respecta- 
ble citizens of Philadelphia were named as trustees. 

Thus far we thought it proper to exhibit in one 
view Dr. Franklin's services in the foundation and es- 
tablishment of this seminary. lie soon afterward 
embarked for England, in the public service of his 
country, and havin^: been generally employed abroad, 
in the like service, for the greater part of the remain- 
der of his life, he had but few opportunities of taking 
any further active part in the affairs of the seminary, 
until his final retm^n in 1785, when he found its char- 
ters violated, and his ancient colleagues, the oriji:inal 
founders, dej^rived of their trust, by an act cf the le- 
' gislature ; and altho' his own name had been ijiserted 
among the neAv trustees, yet he declined to take his 
seat among them, or any concern in the management 
of their affairs, till the institution was restored by law 
to its original owners. He then assembled his old 
colleagues at his own house, and being chosen their 
President, ail their future meetings were held there 
till within a few months of his death, when they af- 
terwards met at the College. 

Dr. Franklin had conducted himself so well in the 
office of Post-master, and had shown himself to be 
so well acquainted with the business of that depart- 
ment, 



2IO FRANKLIN^ 

inent, that it was thought expedient to raise him to- a 
more dignified station. In 1753, he was appointed 
Deputy Post Master General for the British Colonies. 
The profits arising from the postage of letters form- 
ed no inconsiderable part of the revenue which the 
Crown of Great Britain derived from these Colonies. 

The American Colonies were much exposed to de- 
predations on their frontiers by the Indians, and more 
particularly whenever a war took palace between France 
and England. The Colonies, Tndividually, were ei- 
ther too weak to take efficient measures for their own 
defence, or they were unwilling to take upon them- 
selves the whole burden of erecting forts and main- 
taining garrisons, whilst their neighbours, who par- 
took equally with themselves of the advantages, con- 
tributed nothing to the expence. Sometimes also the 
disputes which subsisted between the Governors and 
Assemblies, prevented the adoption of means of de- 
fence, as we have seen was the case in Pennsylvania 
in 1745. To devise a plan of union between the co- 
lonies, to regulate this and other matters, appeared a 
desirable object. To accomplish this, in the year 
1754, commissioners from New-Hampshire, Massa- 
chusetts, Rhode-Island, New-Jersey, Pennsylvania, 
and Maryland, met at Albany. Dr. Franklin attend- 
ed here, as a commissioner from Pennsylvania, and 
produced a plan, which, from the place of meeting, 
has been usually termed, " The Albany Plan of Uni- 
on." This proposed, that application should be made 
for an act of Parliament, to establish in the Colonies 
a General Government, to be administered by a Pre- 
sident-General, appointed by the Crov.n, and by a 
Grand Council, consisting of members chosen by the 
Representatives of the different Colonies, their num- 
ber to be in direct proportion to the sums paid by 
each Colony into the general treasury, with this re- 
striction, that no Colony should have more than 7, nor 
less than two Representatives. The whole executive 
authority v»'as committed to the President-General. — 
The power of legislation was lodged in the Grand 

Coun- 



FRANKLIN. 211 

Council and President-General jointly, his consent be- 
ing made necessary to passing a bill into a law. The 
powers vested in the President and Council were, to 
declare war and peace, and to conclude treaties with 
the Indian nations, to regulate with, and to make 
purchases of vacant lands from them, either in the 
name of the Crown, or of the Union ; to settle new 
colonies, to make laws for governing these until they 
should be erected into separate governments, and to 
raise troops, build forts, fit out armed vessels, and use 
other means for the general defence ; and, to effect 
these things, a power was given to make laws, laying 
such duties, imposts or taxes, as ihey should find ne- 
cessary, and as would be least burthensome to the 
people. All laws were to be sent to England, for the 
King's approbation, and, unless disapproved of with- 
in 3 years, were to remain in force. All officers in 
the land or sea-service were to be nominated by the 
President-General, and approved of by the General 
Council ; civil ofiicers m ere to be nominated by the 
Council, and approved by the President. Such are 
the out-lines of the plan proposed for the considera- 
tion of the Congress by Dr. Franklin. After several 
days discussion, it was unanimously agreed to by the 
Commissioners, a copy transmitted to each Assembly, 
and one to the King's Council. The fate of it was 
singular. It was disapproved of by the Ministry of 
Great Britain, because it gave too much power to the 
Representatives of the People ; and it was rejected by 
every Assembly, as giving too much power to the 
President-General the Representative of the Crown, 
an influence greater than appeared to them proper in 
a plan of government intended for freemen. Perhaps 
this rejection on both sides is the strorjgest proof that 
could be adduced of the excellence of it, as suited to 
the situation of America and Great Britain at that 
lime. It appears to have steered exactly in the mid- 
dle, between the opposite interests of both. 

Whilst the French were in possession of Canada, 
their trade with the natives extended very far, even 

to 



212 FR/iNKLIN. 

to the back of the British settlements. They were 
disposed, from time to time, to establish posts witliiii 
the territory which the British claimed as their own. 
Independent of the injury to tlie fur trade, which was 
considerable, the colonies sulfered this further incon- 
venience, that the Indians were frequently instigated 
to commit depredations on their frontiers. In the 
year 1753, encroachments were made upon the boun- 
baries of Virginia. Remonstrances had no efiect. — 
In the ensuing- year, a body of men Mas sent out un- 
der the command of Mr. Washington, who, tho' a 
very young man, had, by his conduct in the preced- 
ing year, shewn himself worthy of such an important 
trust. Whilst marching to take possession of the 
post at the junction of the Allegany and Monongahe- 
la, he was informed that the French had already erect- 
ed a fort there. A detachment of their men march- 
ed against hinii. He fortified himself as strongly as 
time and circumstances would admit. A superiority 
of numbers soon obliged him to surrender Fort Ne- 
cessity. He obtained honouralile terms for himself 
and men, and returned to Virginia. The p;overnment 
of Great Britain now thought it necessary to interfere. 
In the year 1755, General Braddock, with some regi- 
ments of regular troops and provincial levies, was sent 
to dispossess' the French of the posts upon v/hich they 
had seized. After the men were all ready, a dilTiculty 
occurred, wdiich had nearly prevented the expedition. 
This was the want of v/aggons. Franklin now step- 
ped forward, and, with the assistance of his son, in a 
little time procured 150. Braddock unfortunately fell 
into an ambuscade, and perished, with a numbei* of 
his men. Washington, who had accompanied him 
as ail aid-de-camp, and Irad warned him, in vain, of 
his danger, now displayed great military talents, in ef- 
fecting a retreat of the remains of the army, and in 
forming a junction v.ith the rear, under Colonel Dun- 
bar, upon whom the chief command now devolved.— 
With some difficulty, they brought their little body 
to a place of safety, but they found it necessary to 

destroy 



FRANKLIN. 213. 

destroy their waggons and baggage, to prevent their 
I'alling into the hands of the enemy. For the waggons 
which he had furnished, Franklin had given bonds to 
a lar^e amount. The owners declared their intention 
of obliging him to make a restitution of their proper- 
ty. Ilad they put ftheir threats in execution, ruin 
must inevitably have been the consequence. Govern- 
or Shirley, linding that he had incurred these debts 
for the service of government, made arrangements 
to have them discharged, and released Franklin from 
his disagreeable situation. 

The alarm spread thro' the Colonies, after the de- 
feat of Braddock, was very great. Preparations to 
arm were every where made. In Pennsylvania, the 
prevalence of the Quaker interest prevented the adop- 
tion of any system of defence, which would compel 
the citizens to bear arms. Franklin introduced into 
the Assembly a bill for organizing a militia, by which 
every man was allowed to take arms or not, as to him 
should appear fit. The Quakers, being thus left at li- 
berty, suflered the bill to pass; for, altho' their prin- 
ciples would not suder them to fight, they had no ob- 
jections to their neighbours fighting for them. In con- 
sequence of this act, a very respectable militia was 
form<:d. The sense of impending danger infused a 
military spirit in all whose religious tenets were not 
opposed to war, Franklin was appointed Colonel of 
a regiment in Philadelphia, which consisted of 1200 



men. 



The north-western frontier being invaded by the 
enemy, it became necessary to adopt measures for its 
defence. Franklin was directed by the Governor to 
take charge of this business. A power of raising men, 
and of appointing oificers to command them, was 
vested in him. Ke soon levied a body of troops, 
with which he repaired to the place at which their 
presence was necessary. Here he built a fort, and 
placed the garrison in such a posture of defence, as 
would enable them to withstand the inroads to which 
the inhabitants had previously been exposed. lie re- 
main- 



214 FRANKLIN. 

niained here for some time, in ord^r the more com- 
pletely to discharge the trust committed to him. — 
Some business of importance at length rendered his 
presence necessary in the assembly, and he returned 
to Philadelphia. 

The defence of her colonies was a great expence 
to Great Britain. The most efiectual mode of les- 
sening this was, to put arms into the hands of the in- 
habitants, and to teach them their use. But England 
wished not that the Americans should become ac- 
quainted with their own strength. She was appre- 
hensive, that, as soon as this period arrived, they 
would no longer submit to that monopoly of their 
trade, which to them was highly injurious, but ex- 
tremely advantageous to the mother country. In com- 
parison with the profits of this, the expence of main- 
taining armies and fleets to defend them Avas trifling. 
She sought to keep them dependant on her for pro- 
tection, the best plan which could be devised for re- 
taining them in peaceable subjection. The least ap- 
peai'vance of a mihtary spirit was therefore to be 
guarded against, and altbo' a war then raged, the act 
organizing a militia was disapproved of by the Minis- 
try. The regiments which had been formed under 
it were disbanded, and the defence of the province 
intrusted to regular troops. 

The disputes between the proprietaries and the 
people continued in full force, altlio' a war was rag- 
ing on the frontiers. Not even the sense of danger 
was sufficient to reconcile, for ever so short a time, 
their jarring interests. The Assembly still insisted 
upon the justice of taxing the proprietary estates, but 
the Governors constantly refused to give their assent 
to this measure, without which no bill could pass into 
a law. Enraged at the obstinacy, and what they con- 
ceived to be unjust proceedings, of their opponents, 
the Assembly at length determined to apply to the 
mother-country for relief. A petition was address- 
ed to the King, in Council, stating the in- 
conveniences under which the inhabitants laboured, 

from 



FRANKLIN, 215 

from the attention of the proprietaries to their private 
interests, to the neglect oF the general welfare of the 
community, and praying for redress. FrankHn was 
appointed to present this address, as agent for the 
province of Pennsylvania, and departed from Ameri- 
ca in June, 1757. In conformity to the instructions 
which he had received from the Legislature, he held 
a conference with the Proprietaries, who then resided 
in England, and endeavoured to prevail upon them to 
give up the long-contested point. Finding that they 
would hearken to no terms of accommodation, he laid 
his petition before the Council. During this time, 
Governor Denny assented to a law imposing a tax, in 
which no discrimination was made in favour of the 
Penn family. They, alarmed at this intelligence, and 
Franklin's exertions, used their utmost endeavours to 
prevent the royal sanction being given to this law, 
which they represented as highly inicjuitous, design- 
ed to throw the support of government upon them, 
and calculated to produce the most ruinous consequen- 
ces to them and their posterity. The cause was amp- 
ly discussed before the Privy Council. The Penns 
found here some strenuous advocates, nor were there 
wanting some who warmly espoused the side of the 
people. After some time spent in debate, a proposal 
was made, that Franklin should solemnly engage, that 
the assessment of the tax should be so made, as that 
the proprietary estates should pay no more than a due 
proportion. This he agreed to perform, the Penn fa- 
mily withdrew their opposition, and tranquillity was 
thus once more restored to the province. 

The mode in which this dispute was terminated is 
a striking proof of the high opinion entertained of 
Franklin's integrity and honour, even by those who 
considered him as inimical to their views. Nor was 
their confidence ill-founded. The assessment was 
inade upon the strictest principles of equity, and the 
proprietary estates bore only a proportionable share 
to the expences of supporting Government. 

Af- 



2i6 FPvANKLIN. 

After the completion of this important business, 
Franklin remained at the court of Great Britain, as 
agent for the province of Pennsylvania. The exten- 
sive knowledge which he possessed of the situation 
of the Colonies, and the regard which he always ma- 
nifested for their interests, occasioned his appoint- 
ment to the same ofKce by the Colonies of Massachu- 
setts, Maryland and Georgia. His conduct in this si- 
tuation was such as rendered him still more dear to 
his countrymen. 

He had now an opportunity of indulging in the so- 
ciety of those friends whom his merits had procured 
liim while at a distance. The regard which they had 
entertained for him was rather increased by a person- 
al acquaintance. The opposition which had been 
made to his discoveries in philosophy, gradually ceas- 
ed, and the rewards ot literary merit v/ere abundantly 
conferred upon him. The Royal Society of London, 
which had at fn-st refused his performances admission 
into its transactions, now thought? it an honour to rank 
him among its fellows. Other societies of Europe 
were equally ambitious of caHing him a member. — 
The university of St. Andrew's, in Scotland, confer- 
red upon him the degree of Doctor of Laws. Its. ex- 
ample was followed by the universities of Edinburgh 
and of Oxford. His correspondence was sought lor 
by the most eminent philosophers of Europe. His 
letters to these abound with true science, delivered in 
the most simple, unadorned manner. 

Altho' Dr. Frunklin was now principally occupied 
with political pursuits, he found some time for philo- 
phical studies. He extended his electrical re- 
searches, and made a variety of experiments, parti- 
cularly on the tourmulln. The singular properties 
which this stone possesses of being electrical on one 
side positively and on the other negatively, by heat 
alone, witnout fnction, had been but lately observed. 

Son^e experiments on the cold produced by evapo- 
ration, made by Dr. CuUen, had been communicated 

to 



FRANKLIN. 217 

to Dr. Franklin by Professor Simpson, of Glasgow. 

These lie repeated, and found, tiiat, by the evapora- 
tion of ether in the exhausted receiver of an air-pump, 
so great a degree of cold was produced in a summer's 
day, that w^ater was converted into ice. This disco- 
very he applied to the solution of a number of pheno- 
mena, particularly a singular fact, which philosophers 
had endeavoured in vain to account for, viz. that the 
temperature of tlie human body, when in health, ne- 
ver exceeds 96 degrees of Fahrenheit's thermometer, 
altho' the atmosphere which surrounds it may be heat- 
ed to a much greater degree. This he attributed to 
the increased perspiration, and consequent evapora- 
tion produced by the heat. 

The tone produced by rubbing the brim of a drink- 
ing-glass with ^ wet linger had been generally known. 
A Mr. Pockrich, an Irishman, by placing on a ti.ble 
a number of glasses of different sizes, and tuning* 
them by partly fdling them with water, endeavoured 
to form an ins<-rumcnt capable of playing tunes. He 
was prevented, by an untimely end, from bringing jiis 
invention to any degree of perfection. After his 
death, some improvements were made upon his plan. 
The sv/eetness of the tones induced Dr. Franklin to 
make a variety of experiments, and he at length 
formed that elegant instrument wliich he has cafied 
the Harmonica, 

In the summer of 1762 he returned to America.—. 
On his passage he observed the singular effect produ- 
ced by the agitation of a vessel, containing oil floating 
on water. The surface of the oil remains smooth 
and undisturbed, whilst the water is agitated with the 
utmost commotion. No satisfactory explanation of 
this appearance has, we believe, ever been given. 

Dr. Franklin received the thanks of the Assembly 
of Pennsylvania, "as well for the hiithful discharge of 
his duty to that province in particular, as for the ma- 
ny and important services done to America in general, 
during his residence in Great Britain." A compensa- 

L tioa 



2i8 FRANKLIN. 

tion of 5000/, Pennsylvania currency, was also decreed 
hhn for his services durinc^ 6 years. 

During his absence he had been annually elected 
member of the Assembly. On his return to Pennsyl- 
rania, he again took his seat in this body, and conti- 
nued a steady defender of the liberties of the people. 

At the election for a new^ Assembly, in the fall of 
1764, the friends of the Proprietaries made great ex- 
ertions to exclude those of the adverse party, and ob- 
tamed a small majority in the city of Philadelpia. 
Franklin now lost his seat in the house, which he had 
held for 14 years. On the meethig of the Assembly, 
it appeared that there was still a decided majority of 
Franklin's friends. He was immediately appointed 
Provincial Agent, to the great chagrin of his enemies, 
who made a solemn protest against his appointment, 
which was refused admission upon the minutes, as be- 
ing unprecedented. It was, liowever, pubUshed in 
the papers, and produced a spirited reply from him, 
just before his departure for England. 

The disturbances produced in America by Mr. 
Grenville's stamp-act, and the opposition made to it, 
are well known. Under the Marquis of Rockingham's 
administration, it appeared expedient to endeavour to 
calm the minds of the Colonists, and the repeal of the 
odious tax was contemplated. Amongst other means 
of collecting information on the disposition of the peo- 
ple to submit to it, Dr. Franklin was called to the bar 
of the House of Commons. The examination which 
he here underwent was published, and contains a 
striking proof of the extent and accuracy of his in- 
Ibrmation, and the facility with which he communi- 
cated his sentiments. He represented facts in so 
strong a point of view, that the inexpediency of the 
act must have appeared clear to every unprejudiced 
mind. The act, after some opposition, was repealed 
about year after it was enacted, and before it had ever 
been carried into execution. 

In the year 1776, he made a visit to Holland and 
Germany, and received the greatest marks of atten- 
tion 



FRANKLIN. 219 

tion from men of science. In his passage tliro' Hol- 
land, he learned from the watermen the eHcct whicli 
a diminution of the quantity of water in canals has 
in impeding the progress of boats. Upon his return 
to England, he was led to make a number of experi- 
ments, all of which tended to confirm tlie observation. 
These, with an explanation of the phenomenon, he 
communicated in a letter to his friend Sir John Prin- 
gle, which is contained in the volume of his philo- 
sophical pieces. 

In the following year, he travelled into France, 
where he met with a no less favourable reception 
than he had experienced in Germany. He' was intro- 
duced to a number of literary characters, and to the 
King, Louis XV". 

Several letters, written by Hutchinson, Oliver, and 
others, to persons in eminent stations in Great Bri- 
tain, came into the hands of Dr. Franklin.- These 
contained the most violent invectives against the lead- 
ing characters of the state of Massachusetts, and stre- 
nuously advised the prosecution of vigorous mea- 
sures, to compel the people to obedience to the mea- 
sures of the Ministry. These he transmitted to the 
Legislature, by whom they were published. Attest 
ed copies of them were sent to Great Britain, with an 
address, praymg the King to discharge from office 
persons vvho had rendered tliemselves s"o obnoxious to 
the people, and who had shewn themselves so un- 
friendly ro their interests. The publication of these 
letters produced a duel between Mr. Wheatly ruid Mr 
/ emple, each of whom was suspected of having been 
instrumental m procuring them. To prevent any fur 
her disputes on this subject. Dr. Franklin, in one of 
the public papers, declared that he had sent them to 
America, but would give no information con einin^ 
he manner m wh.ch he had obtained them, nor waf 
this ever discovei ed. ' ^^^* 

Shortly after, the petition of the Massachusetts A. 

TZ:::^! 't^^ ^^---.ination, be^!;:";^;^ : 

vy Council. Dr. Iranklm attended, as agent for tlie 

As- 



2 20 FRANKLIN. 

Assembly ; and here a torrent of the most violent and 
unwarrantable abuse was poured upon him by the So- 
licitor General, Wedderburne, (now I^ord Loughbo- 
rough) who was en£!;ag:ed as Council for Oliver and 
Hutchinson. The petition was declared to be scan- 
dalous and vexatious, and the prayer of it rejected. 

Dr. Franklin left nothinc^ untried to prevail upon 
the British fv'linistry to consent to a change of mea- 
sures. In private conversations, and in letters to 
persons in government, he continually expatiated up- 
on the impolicy and injustice ot tJieir conduct towards 
America, and stated, that, notwithstanding the at- 
tachment of the Colonists to the Mother-country, a 
repetition of ill treatment must ultimately alienate 
their affections. They listened not to his advice. — ■ 
They blindly persevered in their own schemes, and 
left to the Colonists no other alternative but opposi- 
tion or unconditional submission. The latter accord- 
ed not witii the principles of freedom, Avhich they had 
been taught to revere. To the" former they were 
compelled, tho' reluctantly, to have recourse. 

Dr. Franklin, linding all eiforts to restore harmony 
between Great Britain and her Colonies useless, re- 
turned to America in the year 1775, just after tiie 
commencement of hostilities. The day after his re- 
turn, he was elected, by the Legislature of Pennsyl- 
vania, a member of Congress. Not long after his 
election, a committee was appointed, consisting of 
Mr. Lynch, Mr. Harrison, and himself, to visit the 
camp at Cambridge, and, in conjunction with the 
Commander in Chief, to endeavour to convince the 
troops, whose term of enlistment was about to expire, 
of the necessity of their continuing in the held, and 
perseverhig m the cause of their country. 

In the fall of the same year, he visited Canada, to 
endeavour to unite them in the common cause of li- 
berty ; but they could not be prevailed upon to oppose 
the measures of the British government. M. Le Roy, 
in a lette' annexed to Abbe Fauchet's eulogium of Dr. 
Franklin, states, that the ill success of this negocia- 

tion 



FRANKLIN. zat 

lion was occasioned, in a great degree, by religious 
animosities, which subsisted between the Canadians 
and their neighbours, some of whom had, at dirterent- 
times, burnt their chapels. 

When Lord Howe came to America, in 1776, vest- 
ed with power to treat with the Colonists, a corres- 
pondence took place between him and Dr. Franklin, 
on the subject of a reconciliation. Dr. Franklin was 
afterwards appointed, together with John Adams and 
Edward Rutlrdge, to wait upon the Commissioner?, 
in order to learn the extent of theii> power. These 
were found to be only to grant pardons upon submis- 
sion. These were terms which would not be accept- 
ed, and the object of the Commissioners could not be 
obtained. 

The momentous question of independence was 
shortly after brought into view, at a time wlien the 
ileets and armies, which were sent to enforce obedi- 
ence, were truly formidable. With an army ignorant 
of discipline, and entirely unskilled in the art of war, 
witiiout money, without a lleet, without allies, and 
with nothing but the love of liberty to support them, 
tlie Colonists determined to separate from a country 
from whicl) they had experienced a repetition of iriju- 
ry and insult. In this question. Dr. Franklin was de- 
cidedly in favour of the measure proposed, and had 
great influence in bringing over others to his senti- 
ments. 

The public mind had been pretty fully prepared 
for this event, by Tho. Paine's celebrated pamphlet, 
Convnon Sense, There is good reason to believe that 
Dr. Franklin had no inconsiderable share, at least, in 
furnishiiig materials for this work. 

In the Convention which assembled at Philadelphia, 
in 1776, fv.r the purpose of establishing a new form 
of government for the state of Pennsylvania, Di. 
Franklin was chosen President. The late constitution 
of this Slate, which was the result of their delibera- 
tions, may be considered as a digest of his principles 



2Zi FRANKLIN. 

of government. The single legislature, and the phi- 
ral executive, seem to have been his favourite tenets. 

In the latter end of 1776, Dr. FrankUn was appoint- 
ed to assist in rhe ncgociations which had been set on 
foot by Silas Deane, at the court of France. A con- 
viction of tlic advantages of a commercial intercourse 
with America, and a desh-e of weakening the British 
empire by dismembering it, first induced the French 
court to listen to proposals of an alliance. But they 
shewed rather a reluctance to the measure, which, by 
Dr. Franklin's address, and particularly by the success 
of the American arms against General Burgoyne, was 
at length overcome, and, in February 1778, a treaty 
of alliance, ofiensive and defensive, was concluded, 
in consequence of which France became involved in 
the war with Great Britain. 

Perhaps no person could have been found more ca- 
pable of rendering essential services to the United 
States at the court of France than Dr. Frarjklin. He 
■was well known as a philosopher, and his character 
was held in the highest estimation. He was received 
with the greatest marks of respect by all literary cha- 
racters, and this respect was extended amongst all 
classes of men. His personal influence was hence 
very considerable. I'o the etlects of this were added 
those of various performances which he published, 
tending to establish the credit and character of the 
United States. To his exertions in this way, may, 
in no small degree, hr ascribed the success of the 
loans negociated in Holland and France, which great- 
ly contributed to bringing the war to a happy conclu- 
sion. 

The repeated ill success of their arms, and more 
particularly the capture of Cornwallis and his arn)y, 
at length convinced the British nation of the impossi- 
bility of reducing the Americans to sul^jection. The 
trading interest particularly became clamorous for 
peace. The Ministry were unable longer to oppose 
their wishes. Provisional articles of peace were 
agreed to, and signed at Paris, on the 30th of No- 

vem- 



FRANKLIN. 223 

vcmber, 1782, by Dr. Franklin, Mr. Adams, Mr. Jay, 
and jMr. Laurens, on the part of the United States ; 
and by Mr. Oswald, on the part ot Great Britain — 
These formed the basis of the Definitive Treaty, which 
was concluded the 3d of September, 1733, and signed 
by Dr. Franklin Mr. Adams, and Mr. Jay, on the 
one part, and by Mr. David Hartley on the other. 

On the 3d of April, 1783, a treaty of amity and 
commerce, between the United States and Sweden, 
was concluded at Paris by Dr. Franklin and the Count 
Von Kruitz. 

Dr. Franklin did not allow his political pursuits to 
engross his whole attention. Some of his perform- 
ances made their appearance in Paris. The object of 
tliese was, generally, the promotion of industry and 
economy. 

The important ends of Dr. Franklin's mission be- 
ing completed by tlie establishment of American In- 
dependence, and the infirmities of age and disease 
coming upon him, he became desirous of returning to 
his native country. Upon application to Congress to 
be recalled, Mr. Jefferson was appointed to succeed 
him, in 1785. Some time in September of the same 
year. Dr. Franklin arrived in Philadelphia. He was, 
shortly after, chosen member of the Supreme Exe- 
cutive Council for the city, and soon after was elected 
President of the same. 

When a convention was called to meet in Philadel- 
phia, in 1787, for the purpose of giving more energy 
to the government of the Union, by revising and 
amending the Articles of Confederation, D\\ Frf.nk- 
lin was appointed a delegate from the state of Penn- 
sylvania. Fie signed the constitution wliich they pro- 
posed for the Union, and gave it the most unequivocal 
marks of his approl)ation. 

Dr. Franklin's increasing infirmities prevented Iiis 
regular attendance at the Council-chamber ; and in 
1788, he retired wholly from public life. 

His constitution had been a remarkably good one. 
He iiad been little svibjcct to disease, except an attack 

of 



224 ' FR.4NKLIN. 

of the gout, occasionally, until about the year 1781, 
when he was first attacked with symptoms of the cal- 
culous complaint, which continued dr.ring- his life. — 
During the intervals of pain from this grievous dis- 
ease, he spent many cheerful hours, conversing in 
the most agreeable and instructive manner. His fa- 
culties were entirely unimpaired, even to the hour of 
Ills death. 

His name, as President of the Abolition Society, 
was signed to the memorial presented to the House 
of Representatives of the United States, on the 12th 
of February, 1789, praying them to exert the full ex- 
tent of power vested in them by the constitution, in 
discouraging the traHic of the human species. This 
was his last public act. In the debates to which this 
memorial gave rise, several attempts were made to 
justify the trade. In the Federal Gazette of March 
25th, there appeared an essay, signed Historicus, 
written by Dr. Franklin, in which he communicated 
a speech, said ta have been delivered in the Divan of 
Algiers, in 1687, in opposition to the prayer of the 
petition of a sect called Erika, or Purists, for the abo- 
lition of piracy and slavery. This pretended African 
speech was an excellent parody of one delivered by 
Mr. Jackson, of Georgia. All the arguments urged 
in favour of Negro-slavery are applied, with equal 
force, to justify the plundering and enslaving of Eu- 
ropeans. It also altbrds, at the same time, a demon- 
stration of the futility of the arguments in defence of 
ihe Slave-trade, and of the strength of mind and in- 
t>-enuity of the author, at his advanced period of life. 
It furnished, too, a no less convincing proof of his 
power of imitating the style of other times and na-. 
tions, than his celebrated parable against persecution* 
And as the latter led many persons to search the 
Scriptures with a view to find it, so the former caused 
many persons to search the book-stores and libraries 
for the work from which it was said to be extra.cted. 

In the beginning of April following, he was attack- 
ed with a fever and complaint of his breast, which 

tev^ 



FRANKLIN. 115 

terminated his existence. The followin.? account of 
his last ilhiess was written by his friend and physician, 
Dr. Jones. 

" The stone, with which he had been alBictcd for 
several years, had, for the last twelve months, confin- 
ed him cliiefly to his bed ; and, during the extreme 
painful paroxysms, he was obliged to take large doses 
of laudanum to mitigate his tortures — still, in the in- 
tervals of pain, he not only amused himself with read- 
ing and conversing cheerfully with his family, and a 
few friends who visited him, but was often employed 
in doing business of a public as well as private na- 
ture, witii various persons who waited on him for that 
purpose ; and in every instance displayed not only that 
readiness and disposition of doing good, which was 
the distinguishing characteristic of his life, but the 
fullest and clearest possession of his uncommon men- 
tal abilities, and not unfrequently indulged himself in 
those Jeux cVesprit and entertaining anecdotes, which 
were the delight of all who heard him. 

« About 16 days before his death, he was seized 
with a feverish indisposition, without any particular 
symptoms attending it, till the 3d or 4th day, when 
lie complained of a pain in his left breast, which in- 
creased till it became extremely acute, attended with 
a cough, and laborious breathing. During this state, 
when the severity of his pains drew forth a groan of 
complaint, he would observe, that he was afraid he 
did not bear them as he ought — acknowledged his 
grateful sense of the many blessings he had received 
from that Supreme Being who had raised him, from 
small and low beginnings, to such high rank and con- 
sideration among men — and made no doul)t but his 
present arllictions were kmdly intended to wean him 
from a world in which he was no longer fit to act the 
part assigned him. In this frame of body and mind 
be continued till five days before his deatli, when his 
pain and difficulty of breatliing entirely left him, and 
his family were flattering themselves with the hopes 
of his recovery, when an imposthumation, which had 

L 2 form- 



-226 FRANKLIN. 

formed Itself in his lungs, suddenly burst, and dis- 
charged a gr«al quantity of matter, which he conti- 
nued to throw up while he had sufficient strength to 
do it ; but, as that failed, the organs of respiration 
became gradually oppressed — a calm, lethargic state 
succeeded — and, on the 17th of April, 1790, about 11 
o'clock at night, he quietly expired, closing a long 
and useful life of 84 years and 3 months. 

The following epitaph on himself was written b^ 
him many years previous to his death : 

The Body 
of 

BENJAMIN FEANKLIN, 

Printeu, 

Like the Cover of an old Book, 

Its Contents torn out, 

And ftript of its Letterhig and Gilding,' 

Lies here Food for Worms : 

Yet the Work itfelf (ball not be loft. 

For it will (as he believed *) appear once more 

In a new and more beautiful Edition, 

Corretiled and Amended 

by 

The Author. 



* This may eontradii5t the opinion of thofe who are fn- 
fUned to alperfe the memory of this celebrated man — thofe,. 
who, in the vic-Ience of ])olitical or religious fanaticifm, be- 
cauie he did not come exadly up to the Itandard of their ten- 
e-s, have faid, " that Dr. Franklin was not a believer." — 
Here the following^ anecdote is applicable. As a thoughtlefs 
young gentleman, one day in converfation, was oftentatioully 
exj)atiating on Religion, and condemning it as a vulgar pre- 
jadice, he confidently ai)pealed to the Doctor, e.xpefting his 
;ipprobation — '* Young man (faid the Philofopher emphati- 
■cally) it is beji to believe.'* 



( tr7 ) 



GENERAL LEE. 

THE family of the Lees is both ancient and re- 
spectable, many of them having had connec- 
tions and intermarriages with the principal families in 
the P^nglish nation, and from a pedigree done forMr» 
Thomas Lee, Distributer and Collector of the Stamp 
Duties for the county and city of Chester, North 
Wales, we learn that the General's father was John 
Lee, of Dernhall, in the said county, who was some 
time a Captain of Dragoons, afterwards Lieutenant 
Colonel of General Barrel's regiment from 1717 to 
1742, at which time he was promoted to a regiment 
of foot. He married Isabella, second daughter of Sir 
Henry Bunbury, of Stanney, in the county of Ches- 
ter, Baronet ; by this lady he had three sons, Tho- 
mas, Harry, and Charles, the youngest, who is the 
subject of these memoirs. 

From his early youth he was ardent in the pursuit 
of knowledge, and behig an officer at 1 1 years of age, 
may be considered as born in the army, which, tho* 
it deprived him of some regularity with respect to 
the mode of his education, yet his genius led him as- 
siduously to cultivate the helds of science, and lie ac- 
quired a competent skill in the Greek and Latin ; 
while his fondness for travelling gave him also an op- 
portunity of attaining the Italian, Spanish, German, 
and French languages. 

Having laid a good foundation, tactics became his 
favourite study, hi which he spent much time and 
pains, desiring nothing more than to disthiguish him- 
self in the profession of arms. We find him very 
early in America, commanding a company of grena- 
diers of the 44th regiment, and he was at the battle 
of Ticonderoga, where General Abercrombie was de- 
feated. Here, it is said, he was shot thro' the body, 
but fortunately his wound did not prove mortal. 

Whea 



228 LEE. 

When be returned to England from America, after 
the reduction of Montreal, he found a g-eneral peace 
was in contemplation. The cession of Canada was 
talked of, which gave great imeasiness to every Ame- 
rican, as it appeared prejudicial to their interest and 
safety. On this occasion he exerted himself, and 
published a pamphlet shewing the importance of this 
country, which was much approved of by all the 
friends to America. The celebrated Dr. Franklin, in 
particular, was pleased to compliment him, and said, 
" that it could not fail of making a salutary impres- 
sion." In the year 1762, he bore a Colonel's com- 
mission, and served under General Burgoyne in Por- 
tugal, and in this service he handsomely distinguish- 
ed himself. 

When a general conclusion was at length put to 
the war, he returned to England from Portugal, after 
having received the thanks of his Portuguese Majes- 
ty for his services; and Count La Lippe recommend- 
ed him in the strongest terms to the English court. 
He had, at this period, a friend and patron in high 
ofTice, one of the Principal Secretaries of State, so 
that there was every reason for him to have expected 
promotion in the English army. But, here, his at- 
tachment, his enthusiasm for America, interfered, and 
prevented. The great Indian, or what we called Pon- 
diack's war, broke out, which the ministerial agents 
thought their interest to represent as a matter of no 
consequence. The friends of America thought the 
reverse, and asserted it would be attended with dread- 
ful waste, ravage and desolation. This brought him 
once more to publish for the defence and protection of 
this country, by which he lost the favour of the Mi- 
nistry, and shut tlie door to all hopes of preferment 
in the English army. But he could not live in idle- 
ness and inactivity ; he left his native country, and 
cjUered into the Polish service, and was, of course, 
absent when the Stamp-act passed ; but, altho' absent, 
he <lid not cease labouring in the cause of America, 
as may be learjied fiom many of his letters. He used 

every 



LEE. 129 

every argument, and exerted all the abilities he waa 
master of, with every correspondent he had, in either 
House of Parliament, of any weii^ht or influence, and, 
at the same time, he had not an inconsiderable num- 
ber in both. 

It must be observed, that this famous act had divid- 
ed almost every nation in Europe into two different 
parties — the one, assertors of the prerogative of the 
British Parliament — the other, of the rights and pri- 
vileges of America. General Lee, on this occasion, 
pleaded the cause of the Colonies with such earnest- 
ness, as idmost to break off all intercourse with the 
King's Ministers at the court of Vienna, men that he 
personally loved and esteemed ; but, at the same time, 
it was thought that he pleaded with so much success, 
as to add not a few friends and partizans to America. 
These circumstances are mentioned, as they serve to 
demonstrate that a zeal for the welfare of the Colo* 
nies, from the General's earliest acquaintance with 
them, had been a ruling principle of his life. The 
present Memoir will testify what he sacrificed, what he 
did, and what he hazarded, in the last and most im- 
portant contest, which separated the Colonies from 
their parent-statg ; but, there is one circumstance 
which seems to claim a particular attention, which is, 
tliat of all the officers who embarked in the American 
service, he was the only man who could acquire no 
additional rank, and perhaps the only one whose for- 
tune could not have been impaired, or, at least, the 
tenure by which it was held, changed from its former 
condition into a precarious and arbitrary one, by the 
success of the Biitish Ministry's schemes; for, had 
they been completed to the full extent of their wishes, 
the condition of his fortune had not been altered for 
the worse ; his fortune, tho' not great, was easy, and, 
it may be said, affluent, for a private gentleman. 

The General, who could never slay long in one 
place, during the years 1771, 1772, to the fall of 1773, 
had rambled all over Europe ; but we can collect no- 
thing material relative to the adventures of his tra- 
vels. 



230 LEE. 

vels, as his memorandum-books mention only thfe 
names of the towns and cities thro* which he passed. 
That he was a most rapid and very active traveller, is 
evident ; it appears also, that he was engaged with an 
oIKcer in Italy in an " affair of honour," by which he 
lobt the use of two of his fingers ; but having recourse 
to pistols, the Italian was slain, and he immediately 
was obliged to fly for his life. His warmth of temper 
drew him into many rencounters of this kind, in all 
which he acquitted himself with singular courage, 
sprightliness of imagination, and great presence of 
mind. 

Much dissatisfied with the appearance of the poli- 
tical horizon at London, on the 16th of August, 1773, 
he embarked on board the packet for New- York, 
"where he arrived on the 10th of November following, 
and had a very severe fit of the gout. At this period, 
the controversy between Great Britain and her Colo- 
nies began to be serious, and the General concerted a 
design of taking a part in favour of America, in case 
it came to an open rupture. 

The destruction of the British East India Compa- 
ny's tea at Boston, the 16th of December, was a pre- 
lude to the calamities that afterwards ensued. At this 
crisis. General Lee's mind was not inobservant or in- 
active ; his conversation, his pen, animated the Colo- 
nists to a great degree, and persuaded them to make 
a persevering resistance. 

During this winter, he visited Philadelphia, Wil- 
liamsburgh, and several other places in Virginia and 
Maryland, and returned to Philadelphia, a few months 
before the first Congress met in that city, on the 5th 
of September. Encouraging and observing what was 
going forward here, he then paid a visit to New-York, 
Rhode-Island and Boston, where he arrived on the 1st 
of August, 1774. The most active political charac 
lers on the American theatre now hailed him, and 
were happy in his acquaintance, not a little pleased 
with his sanguine, lively temper, considering his pre- 
sence among them, at this crisis, as si most fortunate 

and 



LEE. 231 

tind propitious omen. General Gage had now issued 
his proclamation, and tho' Lee was on half-pay in the 
British service, it did not prevent him from express- 
ing his sentiments, in terms of the most pointed se- 
verity against the Ministry. In short, he blazed 
forth a Whig of the first magnitude, and communi- 
cated a portion of his spirit to all with whom he con- 
versed. As he continued travelling, or ratb.er flying, 
from place to place, he became known to all who dis- 
tinguished themselves in this important opposition ; 
his company and correspondence were courted, and 
many occasional political pieces, the production of his 
pen, were eagerly read, and much admired ; and from 
this popularity, there is no reason to doubt but he ex- 
pected he should soon become the first in military 
rank on this continent. 

General Gates was settled on a plantation in Berk- 
ley county, Virginia, and, having a great friendship 
ibrLee, persuaded him to purchase, from a Mr. Hite, 
a very fine valuable tract of land in his neighbour- 
hood, of about 2,700 acres, on which were several 
good improvements. 

On this business, be left his friends in the northern 
States, and returned to Virginia, where he remained 
till the month of May, 1775, when he again present- 
ed himself at Philadelphia. The American Congress 
were assembled, and he became daily a greater en- 
thusiast in the cause of liberty. The battle of Lex- 
ington, and some other matters, had now ripened the 
contest, and Lee's active and enterprising disposition 
was ready for the most arduous purposes. He there- 
fore accepted a commis?ion from the Congress, which 
was OiTered to him by some of its principal members ; 
but he found it necessary previously to resign that 
which he held in the British service. This he did, 
without delay, ia a letter transmitted to the Right 
Honourable Lord Viscount Harrington, his Majesty's 
Secretary at War, assui ing his Lordship, that altho' 
lie had renounced his half-pay, yet, whenever it should 
please hi«s Majesty to call him forth to any honourable 

ser- 



23 4 LEE. 

service against the natural hereditary enemies of his 
country? or in defence of his most just ric^hts and dig- 
nity, no man would obey the righteous summons with 
more zeal and alacrity than himself; at the same time, 
the General expressed his disapprobation of the pre- 
sent measures, in the most direct terms, declaring 
them to be " so absolutely subversive of the rights 
and liberties of every individual subject, so destruc- 
tive to the empire at large, and ultimately so ruinous 
to his Majesty's own person, dignity and family, that 
he thoui>;ht himself obliged in conscience, as a citizen, 
an Englishman, and a soldier of a free State, to exert 
his utmost to defeat them." 

Professing these sentiments, he received a Conti- 
nental commission, of the rank of Major General.— 
As he had made war his study from his youth, seen 
a variety of service, and distinguished himself for his 
courage and abilities, one might have imagined he 
%vould have immediately been appointed second in 
command in the American army ; but this was not the 
case. General Ward, of Massachusetts Bay, by some 
means or other, had received a commission of prior 
date, and, on this account, perhaps to the injury of 
the service, he took rank of General Lee, who was 
at present content to act under him. Whatever his 
feelings were on this head, he took care to disguise 
them, and General Ward, on the evacuation of Bos- 
ton, grew weary of military honour and service, re- 
tired to private life, and sent his resignation to Con- 
gress. 

On the 21st of June, General Washington and Ge- 
neral Lee, having received their orders from Congress, 
left Philadelphia, in order to join the troops assem- 
bled near Boston. They were accompanied out of 
the city, for some miles, by a troop of light horse, 
and by all the officers of the city militia, on horse- 
back, and at this time General Lee was accounted, 
and really was a great acquisition to the American 
cause. On the road they received the news of tlie 
affair at Bunker's-hill, and arrived at the camp at 

Cam- 



LEE. 233 

Cambridge the 2d of July, 1 775. The people of Mas- 
sachusetts received them with every testimony of es- 
teem, and the Congress of that Colony not only pre- 
sented an address to his Excellency General Washing- 
ton, as Commander in Chief, but, from a sense of the 
military abilities of General Lee, presented one to 
him also, couched in terms of the highest respect. — 
The General remained with this army till the year 
1776, when General Washington, having obtained in- 
telligence of the fitting out of a fleet at Boston, and 
of the embarkation of troops from thence, which, from 
the season of the year and other circumstances, he 
judged must be destined for a southern expedition, 
gave orders to General Lee, to repair, with such vo- 
lunteers as were willing to join him, and could be ex- 
peditiously raised, to the city of Nev/-York, with a 
design to prevent the English from taking possession 
of New- York and the North-River, as they would 
thereby command the country, and the communica- 
tion with Canada. The General, on his arrival, be- 
gan with putting the city in the best posture of de- 
fence the season of the year and circumstances would, 
admit of, disarming all such persons upon Long-Isl- 
and, and elsewhere, whose conduct and declarations 
had rendered them suspected of designs unfriendly to 
the views of Congress. He also drew up a Test, which 
he ordered his officers to ofier to those who were re- 
puted to be inimical to the American cause ; a refu- 
sal to take this, was to be construed as no more or 
less than an avowal of their hostile intentions ; upon 
which, their persons were to be secured, and sent to 
Connecticut, where it was judged they could not be 
so dangerous. Thus, the General excited the people 
to every spirited measure, and intimidated, by every 
means, the friends to the English government. At 
this time. Captain Vandeput, of the Asia, seized a 
Lieutenant Tiley, and kept him on board his ship in 
irons. On the principles of retaliation, Lee took into 
custody, Mr. Stephews, an ofncer of Government, and 
informed the Captain what he had done, and that this 



gei^ 



234 LEE. 

gentleman should not be released until Lieutenant Ti- 
ley was returned. This had the desired effect. His 
determined and decisive disposition had an amazinj^ 
inlluence both on the army and people, and the steps 
he proposed for the management of those who disap- 
proved of the American resistance, struck a terror 
wherever he appeared. 

Congress had now received the account of General 
Montgomery's unsuccessful expedition against Quebec. 
As flattering expectations v/ere entertained of tiie suc- 
cess of this officer, the event threw a gloom on Ame- 
rican a'fairs. To remedy this disaster, they turned 
their eyes to General Lee, and Congress resolved that 
he should forthwith repair to Canada, and take upon 
him the command of the army of the United Colo- 
nies in that province. This, tho' he was just recover- 
ed from a lit of the gout, he accepted ; but, v.'hile 
preparations were making for the important under- 
taking, Congress changed their determination, and 
appointed him to the command of the Southern de- 
partment, in which he became very conspicuous, as a 
vigilant, brave anc^ active officer. His extensive cor- 
respondence, his address under every diificulty, and 
his unwearied attention to the duties of his station, all 
evinced his great military capacity, and extreme use- 
fulness to the cause he had espoused, and was warm- 
ly engaged in. Every testimony of respect was paid 
to him by the people of tlie Northern Colonies, and 
he experienced a similar treatment in his journey to 
the Southward. On his arrival at Williamsburgh, 
every one expressed their high satisfaction at his pre- 
sence among them; and the troops of tnat city em- 
braced the opportunity of presenting him with an ad- 
dress, expressive of their sanguine hopes and iirm 
resolutions of uniting with him in the conmion cause. 
This example was followed at Newbern, North-Caro- 
lina, and a committee was appointed by the inhabit- 
ants of that town to wait upon him in their name, and, 
in an address, to thank him for his generous and man- 
ly exertions in defence of American rights and liber- 



ties 



J 



J 



LEE. 23 

ties,. and to offer him their cordial congratulations for 
his appearance among them, at a time when their 
province was actually invaded by a powerful fleet and 
army ; and to express their happiness to find the com- 
mand of the troops destined for their protection, ])luced 
in the hands of a gentleman of his distinguished cha- 
racter. 

Great too was the joy in South-Carolina, where his 
presence was seasonable and absolutely necessary, as 
Sir Henry Clinton was actually preparing for an inva- 
sion of that province. The minds of all ranks of peo- 
ple w-ere considerably elevated at the sight of him ; 
it diffused an ardour among the military, attended 
with the most salutary consequences ; and his dili- 
gence and activity at Charleston, previous to the at- 
tack upon Sullivan's-Island, will be long remembered. 
From a perusal of his letters and directions to the offi- 
cers commanding at that post, we may justly infer, 
tliat America was under no small obligations to him 
for the signal success there obtained. And hei'e it 
may be mentioned, as somewhat remarkable, that 
when General Lee received orders, at Cambridge, to 
fepair to New-York, to watch the motions of the Bri- 
tish, he met General Clinton the very day he arrived 
there ; when he came to Virginia, he found him in 
Hampton-Road ; and, just after his arrival in North- 
Carolina, General CUnton left Cape Fear. Their next 
meeting was at Fort Sullivan, which must have made 
Lee appear to Clinton ashis evil genius, haunting liim 
for more than 1 100 miles, along a coast of vast extent, 
and meeting him at Fhilippi. 

The affair of Sullivan's Island was a most extraor- 
dinary deliverance ; for, if the English had succeeded, 
it is more than probable the Southern Colonies would, 
at that time, have been compelled to have submitted 
to the English government. Dreadful was the cannon- 
ade, but without el'ect. Forto Bcllo, Boccochico, and 
the other castle at Carthagena, were obliged to strike 
to Vernon ; Fort Lewis, in St. Domingo, yielded to 
the metal of Admiral Knowles j but in this instance, 

an 



136 LEE. 

an unfinished battery, constructed with Pah-netto logs, 
resisted, for a whole day, the 12 and 18-pounde'rs of 
the Britisli fleet, to the astonishment and admu'ation 
of every spectator. 

The fleet and army under Sir Kenry Clinton and 
Sir Peter Parker bein^v repulsed, General Lee then 
flew to the assistance of Georgia, where he continued 
for some weeks, planning schemes to put that pro- 
vince in a state of defence, and to make an excursion 
into East Florida, as their Southern frontiers were suf- 
fering considerably by the incursions of the Indians, 
and others, from that quarter. 

About tlus time, the Congress were informed, by 
General Washington, that Clinton, with the troops un- 
der his command, had returned, and joined General 
Howe at Staten-Island. In consequence of this intel- 
ligence, the Congress were convinced, that the Eng- 
lish, by collecting their whole force into a point, were 
determined to make a vigorous exertion at New-York, 
and, in order to ensure success there, were disposed, 
for the present, to overlook every olhev project. The 
getting possession of that city, and the junction of the 
two armies under Generals Howe and Burgoyne, it 
was the Congress's opinion, were the grand objects 
they had in view, and for the attainment of M'hich they 
would give up every inferior consideration^ Lee's 
success in the Southern department had increased the 
good opinion tliey had conceived of himj his reputa- 
tion was in its zenith, and they now applied to him 
for assistance, in the present important situation of 
their aflaivs. An express was dispatched to Georgia, 
directing him to repair, as soon as possible, to Phila- 
delphia — there to wait for such orders as they might 
judge expedient. He returned with great expedition, 
the beginning of October, and waited on Congress im- 
mediately on his arrival, wlio, after consulting him, 
resolved that he shoukl, without delay, repair to the 
camp at Haerlem, with leave, if he should judge pro- 
per, to visit the posts in New-Jersey. 

Hi- 



LEE. 237 

Hitherto General Lee had been successful, and was 
universally esteemed ; but Fortune now began to re- 
verse the scene. On the I3th of December/ 1776, at 
the head of all the men he could collect, he was 
marching to join General Washington, M'ho had as- 
sembled the Pennsylvania Militia, to secure the banks 
of tlie Delaware. From the distance of the British 
cantonment, he was betrayed into a fatal security, by 
which, in crossing the upper part of New-Jersey from 
the North-River, he fixed his quarters, and lay care- 
lessly guarded, at some distance from the main body. 
This circumstance being communicated to Colonel 
Harcourt, who commanded the British light-horse, 
and had ihen made a desultory excursion at tlic head 
of a small detachment, he conducted his measures 
with such address and activity, that Lee was carried 
off, tho' several guarded posts and armed patroles lay 
in the way. Great was the joy of the British, and 
equal the consternation of the Americans, at this un- 
expected event. The making of a single oiBjcer pri- 
soner, in other circumstances, would have been a mat- 
ter of little moment, but, in the present state of the 
Continental forces, where a general deficiency of mi- 
litary skiU prevailed, and t!ie inexperience of the offi- 
cers was even a greater grievance, the loss of a com- 
mander, whose spirit of enterprize was directed by 
great knowledge in his profession, acquired by actual 
' semice, was indeed of the utmost importance. 

The Congress, on hearing the news, ordered their 
President to write to General Washington, desiring 
him to send a flag to General Howe, i'ov the purpose 
of enquiring in ^vhat manner General Lee was treat- 
ed, and if he found that it was not agreeable ,to his 
rank and character, to send a remonstrance to Gene- 
ral Howe on the subject. This produced much in- 
convenience on both sides, and much calamity to in- 
dividuals. A cartel had sometime before been esta- 
blished for the exchange of prisoners between tiie Ge- 
nerals Howe and Washington, which had hitherto 
been carried into execution as far as time and circum- 
stances 



a:38 LEE, 

stances would admit. As Lee was particularly obnox- 
ious to Government, it was said that General PIowc 
was tied down, by his instructions, from parting with 
him upon any terms, if the fortune of war should 
throw him into his power. General Washington, not 
having at this lime any prisoners of equal rank with 
General Lee, proposed to exchange six field officers 
for him, the number being intended to balance the 
disparity ; or, if this was not accepted, he required 
that he should be treated suitably to his station, ac- 
cording to the practice established among polished 
nations, till an opportunity offered for a fair and direct 
exchange. To this it was ansv.ered, that, as Mr. Lee 
w^as a deserter from his Majesty's service, he was not 
to be considered as a prisoner of war ; that he did not 
at all come within the conditions of the cartel, nor 
could he receive any of its benefits. This brought on 
a fruitless discussion, whether General Lee, who had 
resigned his half-pay at the beginning of the troubles, 
could be considered as a deserter ; or whether he 
could, "with justice, be excluded from the general be- 
nefits of a cartel in which no particular exception of 
persons had been made. In the mean time, General 
Lee was guarded with all the strictness which a state- 
criminal of the first magnitude could have experien- 
ced in the most dangerous policical conjuncture. This 
conduct not only suspended the operation of the car- 
tel, but induced retaliation on the American side, and 
Colonel Campbell, who had hilherto been treated with 
great humanity by the people of Boston, was now 
tlirown into a dungeon. 

Those British officers who were prisoners in the 
Southern Colonies, tho' not treated with equal rigour, 
were, however, abridged of their parole liberty. It 
was at the same time declared, that their future treat- 
ment should, in every degree, be regulated by that 
which General Lee experienced, and that their per- 
sons should be answerable, in the utmost extent, for 
any violence that was offered to him. Thus matters 
continued till the capture of the British army under 

Ge- 



LEE. 239 

General Bnvgoyne at Saratogo, October 17, 1^777, A 
change of conduct towards him then took place ; he 
was allowed his parole in NcAV-York, lodged in the 
sanne house with Lieutenant Colonel Butler, of the 
38tli, dined with General Robertson, connmander of 
the town, and with many principal oflcers and fami- 
lies, and a short time after was exchanged. 

The first military scene in which General Lee ap- 
peared after his liberation, was the battle of Mon- 
mouth, which determined his career in the American 
army. Before this afiair, his character in general 
was very respectable ; many of the warm friends of 
America highly valued the important services he had 
rendered to the United States. 

From the beginning of the contest, he had excited 
and directed the military spirit which pervaded the 
continent ; his conversation raised an emulation a- 
mong the officers, and he taught them to pay a pro- 
per attention to the health, cloathing, and comfortable 
subsistence of their men ; add to this, his zeal was 
miwearied in inculcating the principles of libeily a- 
mong all ranks of people ; hence, it is said, that a 
strong party was formed in Congress, and by some 
discontented officers in the army, to raise Lee to the 
first command ; and it hath been suggested i^y ma- 
ny, that General Lee's conduct at the battle of 
Monmouth was intended to effect this plan ; for, could 
the odium of the defeat have been at that time thrown 
on Cieneral Washington, and his attack of the British 
army made to appear rash and imprudent, tliere is 
great reason to suppose he would have been deprived 
of his command. It hath been observed by some 
writers on this subject, that vihen General Lee was 
taken prisoner, the American aimy was on no par 
with the Royal forces, but the case was much chang- 
ed on his return from captivity, lie found them im- 
proved, and daring enough to attack even the British 
grenadiers with firmness and resolution. Had not 
this been the case, and General Lee, vv'hen ordered to 
attack the rear of the Royal army, seeing his men beat 



)ack 



240 LEE. 

back with disgrace, unwilling to rally, and acting Avith 
fear and trepidation, his retreat would have been ne- 
cessary, his conduct crowned with applause, and his 
purpos'tes elFected ; but, disappointed in this view, the 
retreat hath been imputed to himself, as he could not 
alledge the want of spirit in his troops for the justifi- 
cation of his conduct. 

The British army, early on Thursday the 25th of 
June, completed their evacuation of Philadelphia, hav- 
ing before transported their stores and most of their 
artillery into the Jerseys, where they had thrown up 
some works, and several regiments were encamped ; 
they manned the lines the preceding night, and re- 
treated over the commons, crossing at Gloucester 
Point. A party of American horse pursued them ve- 
ry close ; however, nothing very material happened 
till the 28th, when, about 3 o'clock in the morning, 
the British army moved on their way to Middletown 
Point. About 1 1 o'clock, the Amr^rican van, com- 
manded by General Lee, overtook them ; but he soon 
retreated, and was met by General Washington, who 
formed on the first proper piece of ground near Mon- 
mouth Court-house. While this was doing, two pie- 
ces of cannon, supported by Colonel Livingston and 
Colonel Stewart, uith a picked corps of 300 men, kept 
oiF the main body of the English, and made a great 
slaughter. Very severe skirmishing ensued, and the 
American army advancing, the British made their 
last efrbrts upon a small body of Pensylvania troops at 
and about Mr. Tennant's house ; they then gave way, 
leaving the lield covered with dead and wounded. Ge- 
neral Washmgton's troops pursued for about a mile, 
when, night coming on, and the men exceedingly fa- 
tigued with marching and the hot weather, they lialt- 
ed about half a mile beyond the ground of the princi- 
pal action. The British took a strong post in their 
front, secured on both ilanks by morasses and thick 
woods, where they remained until about 12 at night, 
and then retreated. In consecjuence of this action, 
General Lee was put under arrest, and tried by a 

Court 



LEE* 241 

Court Martial at Brunswick, the 4th July follow, ing. 
The charges exhibited against him were, 

1st, For disobedience of orders in not attacking the 
eneniy on the 28th of June, agreeable to repeated in- 
structions. 

2dly, For misbehaviour before the enemy on the 
same day, by making an unnecessary, disorderly, and 
shameful retreat. 

Sdly, For disrespect to the Commander in Chief, in 
two letters, dated the 1st July and 28th June. 

The letter, on which the third charge is founded, 
is as follows : 

Camp^ English Toivii^ \st July^ 1778. 
SIR, 

FROM the knowledge that I have of your Excel- 
lency's character, I must conclude, that nothing but 
the misinformation of some very stupid, or misrepre- 
sentation of some very wicked person, could have oc- 
casioned your making use of such very singular ex- 
pressions us you did, on my coming up to the ground 
where you had taken post ; they implied, that I was 
guilty either of disobedience of orders, want of con- 
duct, or want of courage. Your Excellency will, 
therefore, inlinittly oblige me, by lettuig me know, 
on which of these three ailicles you ground your 
charge, that I may prepare for my justincation, which, 
I have the happiness to be conlident, \ can do, to tjie 
Army, to the Congress, to America, and to the World 
in general. Your Excellency must give me leave to 
observe, that neither yourself, nor those about your 
person, could, from your situation, be, in the least, 
judges of the merits or demerits of our manoeuvres ; 
and, to speak with a becoming pride, I can assert, that 
to these manoeuvres the success of the day was entire- 
ly owing. I can boldly say, that, had we remained on^ 
the first ground — or, had we advanced — or, had the re- 
treat been conducted in a manner ditferent from what 
it was, this whole army, and the interests of Ameri- 
ca, would have risked Ijeing sacrificed. I ever had, 
and, I hope, ever shall have, the greatest respect and 

M ve- 



14* LEE. 

veneration for General Wushing;lon ; I think him en- 
dued with many great and good qualities; but, in this 
instance, I must pronounce, that he has been guilty 
of an act of cruel injustice towards a man who had • 
certainly some pretensions to the regard of every serr 
▼ant of his country ; and I think, Sir, I have a right 
to demand some reparation for tlie injury committed ; 
and, unless 1 can obtain it, I must, in justice to my- 
self, when the campaign is closed, which I believe 
will close the war, retire from a service, at the head 
of which is placed a man capable of oftering such in* 
juries ; — but, at the same time, in justice to you, I 
must repeat, that I, from my soul, believe, that it was 
not a motion of your own breast, but instigated by some 
of those dirty earwigs, who will for ever insinuate 
themselves near persons in high office ; for 1 am real- 
ly assured, that when Ciencral Washington acts from 
himself, no man in his army will have reaifon to com- 
plain of injustice and indecorum. 

I am, Sir, and I hope ever shall have reason to 
continue, 

Yours, Sec. CHARLES LEE. 

Hii ExccUeJicy General Wafihinj^ton, 

Head-Quarters^ English Toii'n, 

SIR, 2StliJfi}ie, 1778. 

I RECEIVED your letter, dated, through mistake, 
the 1st of July, expressed, as I conceive, in terms 
iiighly improper. I am not conscious of having made 
use of any very singular expressions at the time of my 
jiieeting you, as you intimate. What I recollect to 
have saidj was dictated by duty, and warranted by the 
occasion. As soon as circumstances will admit, you 
shall have an opportunity either of justifying yourself 
to the Army, to Congress, to America, and to the 
World in general, or of convinchig them that you are 
guilty of a breach of orders, and of misbehaviour be- 
fore the enemy on the 28th instant, in not attacking 
them as you had been directed, and in making an im- 
necessary, disorderly, and shameful retreat. 

1 am, Sir," your most obedient Servant, 

GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



LEE, 243 

The Court met, by several adjoiiniments till the 
42th of August, when they found the unfortunate Ge. 
neral guilty of the several charges bro't against him, 
and sentenced him to be suspended from any commis- 
sion in the armies of the United States of North Ame- 
rica, for the term of 12 months. But it was usual, in 
America, and thought necessary, that the sentence of 
every Court Martial should be ratified or confirmed by 
Congress; the proceedings, therefore, of the Court, 
were accordingly transmitted to them, and the General 
repaired to Philadelphia to await their decision. During 
his stay there on this business, he was involved hi se- 
veral disputes; and, tho' his affair might be considered, 
as yet, fiub judice^ yet the conversation of the city was 
rather against him, which induced him to publish, as 
it were a second defence. 

It was a considerable time before Congress took 
the General's trial under their consideration, during 
which our unfortunate hero continued smarting under 
the frowns of fortune, and the malignant tongues of 
men ; and, to add to his sufferings, in this state of sus- 
pense, he received a letter from Colonel Lawrens, one 
of General Washington's aids, informing him, " that 
in contempt of decency and truth, he had publicly 
abused General Wa!:hinglon, in the grossest terms ;" 
that " the relation in which he stood to him, forbade 
him to pass such conduct unnoticed ; he therefore de- 
manded the satisfaction he was entitled to, and desir- 
ed, that as soon as General Lee should think iiimsclf 
at liberty, he would appoint time and place, and name 
his weapons." ^^''ithout hesitation, this was accepted, 
and he made choice of a brace of pistols, declinhig the 
small sword, because he was rather in a weak state of 
body, having lately received a fall from a horse, and 
also taken a quantity of medicine, to bame a fit of 
the gout, which he apprehended. They met, accord- 
ing to appointment, and discharged their pislols, when 
General Lee received a shght wound in his side ; and 
it hath been said, that, on this occasion, he displayed 
the greatest fortitude and courage. 

Short-* 



*44 LEHi 

. Shortly after, the proceccrings of tlie Court Martial, 
on his trial, came under consideration in Congress, and 
produced debates for several evenings ; but, finally, 
the sentence was confirmed. The General was much 
dissatisfied with it, and his mind extremely embit- 
tered against one of the members (Mr. Henry Dray- 
ton, of South Carolina). This gentleman's conduct 
was vituperated by Lee in the severest language, be- 
cause lie opposed in Congress a division of the seve- 
ral charges brought against him, but argued and in- 
sisted upon lumping them all together, to be decided 
by one question. In this he was ingeniously and warm- 
ly opposed by a very amiable and worthy gentleman, 
Mr. William Paca, a late Governor of Maryland — 
Here we nuist observe, that, prior to this, IVlr. Dray- 
ton was by no means one of the General's favourites ; 
he had taken some unnecessary liberties with his clia- 
ractcr, in a charge which he delivered, as Chief Jus- 
tice, to a Grand Jury in Charleston, South Carolina. 
His temper, thus exasperated, he could no longer re- 
frain from emphatically expressing his sense of the in- 
juries he had received from Mr. Drayton. These 
were delivered, intermixed with threatening language, 
to Mr. Hutson, his colleague and friend, who com- 
municated it. A correspondence ensued, remarkable 
for its poignancy of reply. 

This correspondence, which produced nothing but 
inkshed, being finished, the General retired to his 
plantation in Berkley county, Virginia, where, still ir- 
ritated with the scurrilous attacks he had met with 
from several writers, and others, in Philadelphia, he 
could not forbear giving vent to the bitterness of his 
feelings, and, in this misanthropic disposition, com- 
posed a set of Queries, which he styled Political and 
Military. These he sent, by one of his aids, to the 
printers of Philadelphia, for publication ; but they 
tho't it imprudent to admit them into their papers, as 
General Washington possessed the hearts and admi- 
ration of every one ; he, therefore, applied to the Edit- 
or of the Maryland Jouraal, at Baltimore, who indulg- 
ed 



LEE. 245 

ed him with their insertion. The Queries no sooner 
made their appearance, but a considerable disturbance 
took place among the citizens of Baltimore ; the print- 
er was called upon lor the author, and obliged to give 
uj) his name. 

Lee remained at his retreat, living in a style pecu- 
liar to himself, in a house more like a barn than a pa- 
lace. Olass windows and plaistering would have been 
luxurious extravagance, and his furniture consisted of 
a very few necessary articles ; indeed, he was now so 
rusticated that he could have lived in a tub with Dio- 
genes ; however, he had got a few select valuable au- 
thors, and these enabled him to pass a-vay his time in 
this obscurity. Ln the fall, 1782, he began to be wea- 
ry with the sameness of his situation, and experienc- 
ing his uniitness for the management of country busi- 
ness, he came to a determination to sell his estate, 
and procure a little settlement near some sea-port 
town, whtre he might learn what the world was do- 
ing, and enjoy the conversation of mankind. 

His farm, tho' an excellent tract of land, rather 
i)rought him in debt at tbe end of the year, and added 
to the didiculties he laboured under. It is no wonder, 
then, he was inclined to relinquish his present system 
of life. He left Berkley, and came to Baltimore, 
where he stayed near a week with <,ome old friends, 
and then took his leave for Philadelphia. 

It is presumed, he now found a difierence between 
a General in command, and one destitute of every 
thing but the name ; for we do not find him entertain- 
ed at the house of any private citizen. He took lodg- 
ings at an inn, the sign of the Connestigoe waggon, 
in Market-street. After being three or four days in 
the city, he was taken with a shivering, the forerun- 
ner of a fever, which put a period to his existence 
October 2d, 1782. 

A friend of the Editor's war, at the inn when he 
took his departure from this world. The servants in- 
formed him that General Lee was dying; upon which 
he went into the room> he was then struggling, with 

the 



2^0 LEE. 

tlie King of Terrors, and seemed to have lost his 
senses ; the last words he heard him speak were, 
** Stand by me, my brave grenadiers!" 

The citizens of Philadelpiiia, calling- to mind his 
former services, appeared to be much alFected with 
his death. His funeral was attended with a very large 
concourse of people, tlie Clergy of different denomi- 
nations, his Excellency the President of Congress, the 
President and some Members of tlie Council of the 
Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, his Excellency the 
Minister Plenipotentiary of France, M. Marbois, Se- 
cretary to the Embassy, the Minister of Finance, Ge- 
neral Bai'on d/ Viominil, Duke de Lausan, the Mi- 
nister of War, and several other Ofiicers of distinc- 
tion both in the French and American armies. 

From what hath been observed in these Memoirs, 
v:e may, with justice, alTjrm, that General Lee was a 
great and sincere friend to the rights and liberties of 
mankind, and that it was this grand principle which 
led him to take part on the side of America. It ap- 
pears, that, from his youth, he was bred up with the 
Jiighest regard for the noble sentiments of freedom ; 
liis education and reading strengthened them ; the 
liistorians and orators of Greece and Rome, with 
whom he was considerably convert-ant, added to the 
sacred ilame, and his travels, in many parts of the 
world, did not tend to diminish it. 

The General, in his person, was of a genteel 
make, and rather above the middle size ; his remark- 
able aqualine nose rendered his face somewhat disa- 
{^reeable. lie was master of a most genteel address ; 
but, in the latter part of his life, became excessively 
negligent of the graces, both in garb and behaviour. 
A talent for repartee, united with a quickness of pe- 
netration, created him many enemies. A character 
so eccentric and singular, could not fail of attracting 
the popular attention. His «;;.•«// friends frequently 
passed severe criticisms on his Avords and actions. — 
Narrov/ly watched, every little slip or failure was no- 
ticed, and represented to his disadvantage. The ob- 

jec- 



LEE. 247 

jections to his moral conduct were numerous, and his 
great fondntss for dogs brought on him the disHke 
and frowns of the fair sex ; for the General Avould 
permit his canine adherents to follow him to the par- 
lour, the bed-room, and, sometimes, they might be 
seen on a chair, next his elbow, at table. 

There is great probability that the General was the 
first person who suggested the idea that America 
ought to declare herself independent. When he was 
sent by the Commander in Chief to New-Yoik, he 
behaved with such activity and spirit, infusing the 
same into the minds of the troops and the people, 
that Mr. John Adams said, " a happier expedition 
never was projected ; and that the whole Whig world 
were blessing him for it." About this time. Doctor 
Franklin gave Mr. Thomas Paine, the celebrated au- 
thor of " Common Sense," an introductory letter to 
liim, in which were these words, " The bearer, Mr. 
Paine, has requested a line of introduction to you, 
which 1 give the more willingly, as I know his g"enti- 
ments are not very different from yours." A few 
days after, the Doctor writes again, " There is a khid 
of suspence in men's minds here, at present, waiting' 
to see what terms will be offered from England. 1 
expect none that we can accept; and when that is ge- 
nerally seen, we shall be more unanimous, and more 
decisive. Then, your proposed " Solemn League and 
Covenant" will go better down, and, perhaps, most of 
your other strong measures adopted." In a letter to 
Edward Rutledge, Esq. in the spring of 1776, then a 
iTiember of the Continental Congress, the Gerieral 
thus expesses himself, " As your atlairs pros[;er, the 
timidity of the Senatorial pait of the Continent, great 
and small, grows and extends itself. By the Eternal 
G — , unless you declare yourselves independent, esta- 
blish a more certain and fixed Legislature than that 
of a temporary courtesy of the People, you richly de- 
serve to be enslaved ; and iHhink that, far from im-> 
possible, it should be your lot; as, without a more 
systematic intercourse with France and Holland, wc 

have 



248 LEE. 

have not the means of carrying on the war.'* There 
are other epistles of his of a similar spirit and die* 
tion. 

The mere we investigate the General's character 
and conduct, the more conspicuous his services will 
appear. In the infancy of the American dispute, we 
find him continually suggesting and forwardine^ 
plans for the defence of the country ; and tho' he was 
a pl'ofessed enemy to a standing army, he wasalvvuvs 
recommending a wdl-reguhited militia. This he con- 
sidered as the natural strength of a country, and ab- 
solutely necessary for its safety and preservation. 

He has frequently asserted, that a more pernicious 
idea could not enter into the heads of the citizens, 
than that rigid discipline, and a strict subjection to 
military rules, were incompatible Avith civil liberty ; 
and he vras of opinion, that when the bulk of a com- 
munity would not submit to the ordinances necessary 
for the preservation of military discipline, their liber- 
ty could not be of long continuance. 

The liberty of every Commonwealth must be pro- 
tected ultimately by military force. Military force 
depends upon order and discipline ; without order and 
discipline, the greatest number of armed men are on- 
ly a contemptible niob ; a handful of regrdars must 
disperse them. It follows, then, that the citizens at 
lai'ge must submit to the means of becoming soldiers, 
or tiiat they must commit the protection of their lives 
and property to a distinct body of men, who will, na- 
turally, in a short time set up a proiessional interest, 
separate from the community at large. To this cause 
we may attribute the subversion of every free State 
that history presents to us. The Romans were cer- 
tainly the Hrst and most glorious people tliat have fi- 
gured on the face of the globe ; they continued hee 
longest. Every citizen was a soldier, and a soldier 
not in name, but in fact ; by which is meant, thatthejr 
were the most rigid observers of military institutions. 
The General, tl-.ereforc, thought it expedient that eve- 
ry State in America should be extremely careful to 

per- 



LEE. 249 

perfect the laws relative to their militia; and, that, 
where tliey were glaringly defective, they should be 
made more efficient ; and that it should be established 
as a point of honour, and the criterion of a virtuous 
citizen, to pay the greatest deference to the common 
necessary laws of a camp. 

The most diif.cult task the Editor met with in col- 
lecting and arranging these posthumous papers, arose 
from his desire of not giving offence to such charac- 
ters as had been the object of the General's aversion 
and resentment. Unhappily his disappointments had 
soured his temper ; tliC aflair of Monmouth, several 
pieces of scurrility from the press, and numerous in- 
stances of private slander and defamation, so far got 
the better of his philosophy, as to provoke him in the 
liighest degree, and he became, as it were, angry 
with i-ill mankind. 

To this exasperated disposition we may impute the 
origin of his Political Queries, and a number of satiri- 
cal hints thrown out, both in his con\'ersation and 
writing, against the Commander in Chief. Humanity 
will draw a veil over the involuntary errors of sensibi- 
lity, and pardon the sallies of a suffering mind, as 
its presages did not meet with an accomplishment. — 
General Washington, by his retirement, demonstrat- 
ed to the world, that power was not his object, that 
America had nothing to fear from his am.bition ; but 
that she was honoured with a specimen of such ex- 
alted patriotism as could not fail to attract the atteii" 
tion and admiration qf the most distant nations. 



M 2 



( 250 ) 



GENERAL PUTNAM. 

ISRAEL PUTNAM, who, thro' a regular grada- 
tioii oF promotion, became the senior IMajor-Ge- 
neral in t'nc army of the United States, and next in 
rank to General ^V'ashint^•ton, was born at Salem, in 
l^rovidence, now the State of INiassachusetts, on the 
7lh of January, 1718. Mis father, Captain Joseph 
Putnam, was the son of JoJm Putnam, who, with two 
other brothers, came from the so\ith of Eng-land, and 
were among- the first settlers of Salem. 

."When Me thus behold a person, from the humble 
walks of life, starting unnoticed in the career of fame, 
and, by an undcviating progress thro' a life of honour, 
arriving at the highest dignity in the State, curiosity 
is strongly excited, and philosophy loves to trace the. 
path of glory, from the cradle of obscurity to the 
summit of elevation. 

Altho' our ancestors, the Hist settlers of this land, 
amidst the extreme pressures of poverty and darjger, 
early ir.stituted schools for the education of youth de- 
signed for the learned professions ; yet it was tiiought 
«u'3icient to instruct liiose destined to laboiu* on the 
earth, in reading, writing, and such rudiments of 
•arithmetic, as might be requisite for keeping the ac- 
counts of their little traiisactions with each other. — 
Few farmei-s sons had more advantages, none less* 
In this state of mediocrity it was the lot of young Put- 
nam to be placed. His early instruction was not con- 
siderable, and the active scenes of life in which lie 
was afterwards engaged, prevented the o])portunity of 
great literai'y improvement. His numerous letters, 
tno' deficient in scholastic accuracy, always display 
the goodness of his heart, and, fre(|uently, the strength 
of his native genius. Pie had a laconic mode of ex- 
])ression, and an unalVected epigrammatic turn clui- 
racterised his writings. 

To 



PUTNAM. 2r,t 



J 



To compensate partially for the cleFiciency of edu- 
cation (tho' nothing can remove or counterhaUmcc the 
inconveniences experienced from it in public life), he 
derived from Jiis parents the source of innumera- 
ble advantat^es in the stamina of a vigorous constitu- 
tion. Nature, liberal in bestowing on him bodily 
strength, hardiness and activity, was by no means 
parsimonious in mental endowments. 

His disposition was as frank and generous, as his 
mind was fearless and independent. lie disguised no« 
thing; indeed, beseemed incapable of disguise. Per- 
liaps, in the intercourse he was ultimately obliged to 
have with an artful world, his sincerity, on sonie oc- 
casions, out-weiit his discretion. Altho' he had too 
much suavity in his nature to commence a quarrel, he 
had too much sensibility not to feel, and too much 
honour not to resent an intended insult. The First 
time he went to ]]oston, he was insulted for his rusti- 
city by a boy of twice his size and age ; after bearing 
the sarcasms until his patience was Avorn out, he chal- 
lenged, engaged, and vancjuished his unmaimerly an- 
tagonist, to the great diversion of a crowd of specta- 
tors. While a stripling, his ambition was to per- 
form the labour of a man, and to excel in athle- 
tic diversions! In that rude but masculine age, 
whenever the village youth assembled on their usual 
occasions of festivity, pitching the bar, running, leap- 
ing and wrestling were favourite amusements. At 
such gymnastic exercises (in which during the heroic 
times of iuicient Greece and Rome, conquest was con- 
sidered as the promise of future military fame) he 
bore the palm from almost every ring. 

Before the refinements of luxury, and the conse- 
quent increase of expences, had rendered the mainte- 
nance of a family inconvenient or burdensome in A- 
merica, the sexes entered into matrimony at an early 
age. Competence, attainable by all, was the li- 
mit of pursuit. After the hardships of maUiiig u 
new settlenient were overcome, and the evils of 
penury removed, the inhabitants enjoyed, in the 

lot 



^5^ PUTNAM, 

lot of equality, innocence and security, scenes equal' 
ly deliglitful with those pictured by the glowing ima- 
gination of the poets, in their favourite pastoral lifci 
or fabulous golden age. Indeed, the condition of 
jTiankind was never more enviable. Neither disparity 
of age and fortune, nor schemes of ambition and 
grandeur, nor the pride or ambition and avarice of 
high-minded and mercenary parents, interposed those 
obstacles to the imion of congenial souls, which fre- 
quently, in more polished society, prevent, imbitter, 
or destroy all the felicity of the connubial state. INIr. 
Putnam, before he attained the 21st year of his age, 
married Miss Pope, daughter of ISIr. John Pope, of 
Salem, by whom he had ten children, lie lost the 
wife of his youth in 1764. Some time after, he mar- 
ried Mrs. Gardiner, widow of the late Mr. Gardiner, 
of Gardiner'S'Island, by whom he had no issue. She 
died in 1777. 

In tjie year 1739, he removed to Pomfret, an inland 
fertile town i.iCorsnecticut, 40 miles east of Hartford ; 
leaving there purchased a considerable tract of land, 
lie applied liiniself succcssfullv to agriculture. 

Tlie fu'st years, on a ntnv farm, are not, however, 
exempt from disasters and disappointments, which 
ran only be re-n<idied by stubborn and patit-nt indus- 
try. Our farmer, sufficiently occupied in building an 
house and barn, filling woods, making fences, sow- 
ing grain, planting orchards, and taking care of his 
stock, had to encounter, in turn, the calamities occa-* 
sioned by drought in summer, blasts in harvest, loss 
of cattle in winter, and the desolation of h.is sJieep- 
fold by wolves. In one night, he had 70 fine sheep 
r^nd goats kilitd, ))esides many lambs and kids wound- 
ed. This havock ^^'as committed by a she-wolf, which, 
with her annual whelps, had f)r several years in- 
fested the vicinity. The young were comnionly de- 
stroyed by the vigilance of the hunters, but the old 
one was too sagacious to come within reach of gun- 
shot; upon being closely pursued, she would general- 
ly 



PUTNAM. 253 

ly fly to the western woods, and return the next win- 
ter, with another litter of whelps. 

This wolf, at length, became such a serious nuis- 
ance, that Mr. Putnam entered into a conibinalion 
with five of his neifjhbours, to hunt alternately until 
they could destroy her. Two, by rotation, were to be 
constantly in pursuit. It v/as known, that, having lost 
the toes from one foot, by a steel trap, she made one 
track shorter than the other. By this vestige, the 
pursuers recognized, in a light snov/, the route of this 
pernicious animal. Having followed her to Connecti- 
cut River, and found she had turned back, in a direct 
course towards Pomfret, rhey immediately returned, 
and, by ten o'clock the next morning, the blood- 
hounds had driven her into a den, about 3 miles dis- 
tant from the house of Mr. Putnam. The people 
soon collected, with dogs, guns straw, fire, and sul- 
phur, to attack the common enemy. With this appa- 
ratus, several inisuccessful ellbrts were made to force 
her from the den. The hounds came back, badly 
woimded, and refused to return. The smoke of 
blazing straw had no effect; nor did the fumes of 
burnt brimstone, with which the cavern was filled, 
compel her to quit her retireaient. Wearied with 
such fruitless attempts (which had brought the time 
to ten o'clock at night), Mr. Putnam tried once more 
to make his dog enter, but in vain ; he proposed to 
his negro man to go down into the cavern and shoot 
the wolf; the negro declined the hazardous service. 
Then it was that their master, angry at the disap- 
pointment, and declaring that he was ashamed to have 
a coward in his family, resolved himself to destroy 
the ferocious beast, lest slie should escape thro' some 
nnknown iissure of liie rock. His neighbours strong- 
ly remonstrated against the perilous enterprizc ; but 
he, knowing that wild animals were intinsidated by 
fire, and having provided several strips of birch bark, 
the only combustible material wliich he could obtain, 
that would afford light in this dee]) and darksome cave, 
prepared i^ov his descent. Having, accordingly, di- 

vested 



254 PUTNAM. 

vested himself of his coat and waistcoat, and having' 
a long rope fastened round his leg-s, by which he 
mig-ht be pulled back, at a concerted signal, he enter- 
ed, head foremost, with the blazing torch in his hand. 

The aperture of the den, on the east side of a ve- 
ry high ledge of rocks, is about two feet square , from 
thence it descends, obliquely, 15 feet, then, running 
horizontally about 10 feet more, it ascends gradually 
16 feet towards its termination. The sides of this 
subterraneous cavity are composed of smooth and so- 
lid rocks, which seem to have been divided from 
each other by some former earthquake. The top and 
bottom are also of stone, and the entrance, in winter, 
l)eing covered with ice, is very slippery. It is in no 
place high enough for a man to raise himself upright, 
nor in any part more than 3 feet in width. 

Having groped his passage to the horizontal part of 
the den, the most terrifying darkne"5s appeared in front 
of the dim circle of light aflorded by his torch. It 
was silent as the house of death. None but monsters 
of the desert had ever before explored this solitary 
mansion of horror. He, cautiously proceeding on- 
ward, came to the ascent, whicli he slowly mounted 
on his hands' and knees, until he discovered the glar- 
ing eye-balls of the wolf, who was sitting at tlie ex- 
tremity of the cavern* Starting, at the sight of the 
fire, she gnashed her teeth, and gave a sullen growl. 
As soon as he had made the necessary discovery, he 
kicked the rope, as a signal to be drawn up. The 
people at the mouth of the den, who had listened 
with painful anxiety, hearing the growling of the wolf, 
and supposing their friend to be in the most immi- 
nent danger, drew him forth with such celerity, that 
bis shirt was stripped over his head, and his skin se- 
verely lacerated. 

After he had adjusted his clothes, and loaded his 
gun with 9 buck-shot, holding a torch in one hand and 
the musket in the other, he descended a second time. 
When he drew nearer than before, the wolf assuming 
u' still more fierce and terrible appearance, howling, 

roll- 



PUTNAM. 2J5 

rolling her eyes, snapping her teeth, and, droppinj^ 
her head between her legs, was evidently in the atti- 
tude and on the point of springing at him. At the 
critical instant, he levelled, and Tired at her head. — 
Stunned with the shock, and suffocated with the smoke, 
he immediately found himself drawn out of the cave. 
But, having refreshed himself, and permitted the 
smoke to dissipate, he went down the third time.— 
Once more he came within sight of the wolf, who 
appearing very passive, he applied the torch to her 
nose, and perceiving her dead, he took hold of her 
ears, and then kicking the rope (still tied round his 
legs), the people above, with no small exultation, 
dragged them both out together ! 

Prosperity, at length, began to attend the affairs of 
Mr. Putnam. lie was acknowledged to be an indefati- 
gable farmer. His fields were mostly enclosed with 
stone walls. His crops commonly succeeded, because 
the land was well tilled and manured. — His pastures 
and meadows became luxuriant. His cattle were of 
the best breed and in good order. His garden and 
i'ruit trees prolific. "With the avails ot the surplusage 
of his produce, foreign articles were purchased, — 
Within doors he found the compensation of his la- 
bours, in plenty of excellent provisions, as well as 
in the happiness of domestic society. 

But the time had now arriA'ed, which was to turn 
the instruments of husbandry into weapons of hostili- 
ty, and to exchange the hunting of wolves, who had 
ravaged the sheep-folds, for tlic pursuit after savages 
who had desolated the frontiers. Mr. Putnam was 
about 37 years old in the war between England and 
France, which preceded tiie last in America. His re- 
putation must have been favourably known to the Go- 
vernment, since, among the first troops that were le- 
vied by Connecticut, in 1755, he was appointed to the 
command of a company in Lyman '-^ regiment of Pio- 
vincnds. 

As he was extremely popular, he found no diilicul- 
ty in inlisting his conipiement of recruits from the 

most 



256 PUTNAM. 

most lUirdy, cnterprizing yoiint^ men of his neighbour- 
liood. The regiment joined the army at the opening 
of the campaign, not far drstant from Crown-Point. — 
Soon after his arrival in camp, he became intimately 
connected witli the famous partizan Captain, after- 
wards Major Rogers, with whom he was frequently 
associated in traversing the wilderness, reconnoitring 
the enemy's lines, gaining intelligence, and takhig 
straggHng prisoners, as well as in beating up the quar- 
ters, and surprising the advanced pickets of their ar- 
my. For these operations, a corps of Rangers was 
formed from the irregulars.' The first time Rogers 
smd Putnam were detached with a party of these light 
troops, it was the fortune of the latter to preserve, 
with his own hand, the life of the former, and to ce- 
ment their friendship with the blood of one of their 
enemies. 

The object of tliis expedition was, to obtain an ac- 
curate knowledge of the jwsition and state of the 
w^orks at Crown-Point. It was impracticable to ap- 
proach with their party near enough for this purpose, 
without being discovered. Alone, the undertaking- 
was sufficiently hazardous, on acco\mt of the swarms 
of hostile Indians, who infested the woods. Our two 
partizans, however, left all their men at a convenient 
distance, with strict orders to continue concealed un- 
til their return. Having thus cautiously taken their 
jirrangements, they advanced with the profoundest si- 
lence, in tlie evening, and lay, during the night, con- 
tiguous to the fortress. Early in the morning, they 
approached so close as to be able to give satisfactory 
information to the General who had sent them, on the 
several points to which their attention had been direct- 
ed ; but Captain Rogers being at a little distance from 
Captain Puinam, fortuitously met a stout Frencliman, 
who instantly seized his fuzee with one hand, and 
with the other att'.'mpted to stab him, while he called 
to an adjacent guard for assistance. The guairf an- 
swered. Putnam perceiving the imminent clanger of 
his friend, and that no time v/as to be lost or farther 

alarm 



MTN.^M. 257 

alarm given by firing, ran rapidly to them, ^vhile they 
were yet struggling, and with the butt-end of his piece 
laid the Frenchman dead at his feet. The partizans, 
to elude pursuit, precipitated their flight, joined the 
party, and returned without loss to the encampment. 

The war was chequered with various fortunes in dif- 
ferent quarters—such as the total defeat of General 
Braddock, and the splendid victory of Sir William 
Johnson over the French troops commanded by the 
Baron Dieskau. The brilliancy of th's success was 
necessary to console the Americans for the disgrace 
of that disaster. HereT might, indeed, take a pride 
in contrasting the conduct of the British Regulars, who 
had been ambuscaded on the Monongahela, with that 
of the Provincials (under Johnson), who, having been 
attacked in their lines, gallantly repulsed the enemy, 
and took their General prisoner : I do not consider 
myself at liberty to swell this essay with reflections on 
events, in which Putnam was not directly concerned. 
The time for which the Colonial troops engaged to 
serve, terminated with the campaign. Putnam was 
re-appointed, and again took the field in 1756. 

Few are so ignorant of war as not to know, that 
military adventures, in the night, are always extreme- 
ly liable to accidents. Captain Putnam, having been 
commanded to reconnoitre the enemy's camp at the 
Ovens near Ticonderoga, took the brave Lieutenant 
Robert Durkee as his companion. In attempting to 
execute these orders, he narrowly escaped being tak- 
en himself in the first instance, and had nearly killed 
his friend in the second. It W:;<s customary for the 
British and Provincial troops to place their iires round 
their camp, whicii frequently exposed them to the ene- 
my's scouts and patroles. A ccntrary prar.tice, th.en 
unknown in the English army, prevailed among the 
French and Indians. The plan was much more ra- 
tional — they kept their fires in the centre, lodged their 
men circularly at a distance, and posted their centinels 
in the surrounding darkjiess. Our partizsns approach- 
ed the camp, and, supposiiig the centinels were within 

the 



25? PUTNAN. 

the circle of fires, crept upon their hands and knee* 
with the greatest possible caution, until, to their utter 
astonishment, they found themselves in the thickest of 
the enemy. The centinels discoverini^ them, fired, 
and slightly wounded Durkee in the thigh. He and 
Putnam had no alternative. They fled. The latter 
being foremost, and scarcely able to see his hand be- 
fore him, soon plunged into a clay-pit. Durkee, al- 
most at the identical moment, came tumbling after, 
Putnam, by no means pleased at finding a companion, 
and believing him to be one of the enemy, lifted his 
tomahawk to give the deadly blow — when Durkee 
(who had followed so close as to knov/ him) enquired 
whether he had escaped unhurt? — Captain Putnam, 
instantly dropped his weapon, and both springing from 
the pit, made good their retreat to the neighbouring 
liedges, amidst a shower of random shot. There 
they betook themselves to a large log, by the side of 
which they lodged the remainder of the night. Be- 
fore they laid down, Putnam said he had a little rum, 
which could never be more acceptable or necessary ; 
but, on examining the canteen, which hung under his 
arm, he found the enemy had pierced it with their 
balls, and that there was not a drop of liquor left. — 
The next day, he found 12 bullet-holes in his blanket. 

In the month of August, 500 men were sent under 
the orders of Majors Rogers and Putnam, to watch 
the motions of the enemy near Ticonderoga. At 
South-Bay tliey separated the party into two equal di- 
visions, and Rogers took a position on Wood-Creek, 
12 miles distant from Putnam. Upon being, some 
time afterwards, discovered, they formed a re-union, 
and concerted measures for returning to Fort Edward. 

As soon as the heavy dew which had fallen the pre- 
ceding night would permit, the detacliment moved in 
one body, Putnam being in front, D'Ell in the centre, 
and Kogers in the rear. 'I'he impervious growth of 
shrubs and underbrush, that had sprung up where the 
land had been partially cleared some years before, oc- 
casioned this change in the order of march. At the 

mo- 



PUTNAM. 259 

moment of moving-, the famous parti zan Molang, who 
had been sent with 500 men to intercept our party, 
was not more than one mile and a half distant from 
them. Having heard the firing*, he hasted to lay an 
ambuscade at that part of the wood most favourable 
to his project. Major Putnam was just emerging 
from the thicket to the common forest, when the ene- 
my rose, and, with discordant yells and whoops, com- 
menced an attack on the right of his division. Sur- 
prised, but undismayed, Putnam halted, returned the 
fire, and passed the word for the other divisions to ad- 
vance for his support. D'EU came. The action, tho' 
widely scattered, and principally fought between man 
and man, soon grew general and intensely warm* — 
It would be as difficult as useless to describe this irre- 
gular and ferocious mode of fighting. Rogers came 
not up, but, as he declared afterwards, formed a cir- 
cular file between our party and Wood-Creek, to pre- 
vent their being taken in the rear, or enfiladed. Suc- 
cessful as he commonly was, his conduct did not al- 
ways pass without unfavourable imputations. Not- 
withstanding, it was a common saying in the camp, 
*' that 'Rogers always sent, but Putnam led his 
men to action ;" — yet, in justice, it ought to be re- 
marked here, that the latter has never been known, 
in relating the story of this day's disaster, to affix any 
stigma upon the conduct of the former. 

Major Putnam, perceiving it would be impossible 
to cross the creek, determined to maintain his ground. 
Inspired by his example, the officers and men behav- 
ed with great bravery ; sometimes they fought aggre- 
gately in open view, and sometimes individually un- 
der cover, taking aim from behind the bodies of treea^ 
and acting in a manner independent of each other. — r 
For himself, having discharged his fusee several times, 
at length it missed fire, whilst the muzzle was press- 
ed against the breast of a Savage. This warrior, a- 
vaijing himself of the indefensible attitude of his ad- 
veroary, wiih a tremendoub war-whoop, sprang forward 
with his lifted hatchtit, and compelkd him to surrtri- 

der; 



26o PUTNAM. 

der ; and having disarmed and bound him to a tree, 
returned to the battle. 

The intrepid Captains D'EII and Harman, who now 
commanded, were forced to give ground for a httlc 
distance. The Savages, conceiving this to be the cer- 
tain harbinger of victory, rushed impetuously on, with 
dreadful and redoubled cries. But our two partizans, 
collecting a handful of brave men, gave the pursuers 
so warm a reception, as to oblige ihem, in turn, to re- 
treat a little beyond the spot where the action had 
commenced. Here they made a stand. This change 
of ground occasioned the tree to which Putnam was 
tied, to be directly between ihe tire of the two parties. 
Human imagination can hardly figure to itself a more 
deplorable situation. The bulls Hew incessantly from 
either side ; many struck the tree, while some passed 
thro' the sleeves and skirts of his coat. In this state 
of jeopardy, unable to move his body, stir his limbs, 
or even to incline his head, he remained more than an 
hour — so equally balanced and so obstinate was the 
fight I — At one moment, while the battle swerved in 
favour of tlie enemy, a young SaMige took an odd 
way of discovering his humour: He found Putnam 
bound ; he miglit have dispatched him with a single 
blow ; but he loved bettei- to excite the terrors of his 
prisoner, by hurling a tomahawk at his head— or, ra- 
ther, it should seem his object was, to see how near 
he could throw it willjout touching him; — the wea- 
pon struck in the tree a number oi times at a hair's- 
breadth distance from the mark. When the Indian 
had finished his amusement, a French Bas-Oi^xer, a 
much more inveterate savage by nature, even tho' de- 
scended from so humane and polished a nation, per- 
ceiving Putnam, came up to him, and levelling a fu- 
zee within a foot of his breast, .attempted to discliarge 
it — it miss d nre ; ineifectually did the intended vic- 
tim solicit the treatment due to his situation, by repeat- 
ing that he was a prisoner of war The degenerate 
Frcnehm.in did not understand the language of ho- 
nour or of nature ; deaf to their voice, and dead to 

«cn- 



u 



PUTNAM. 262 

sensibility, he violently and repeatedly pushed the 
muzzle of his gun against Putnam's ribs, and finally 
gave him a cruel blow on the jaw with the butt of his 
piece. After this dastardly deed he left him. 

At length, the active intrepidity of D'Ell and Har- 
man, seconded by the persevering valour of their fol- 
lowers, prevailed. They drove from the field the en- 
emy, who left about 90 dead behind them. As they 
were retiring, Putnam was untied by the Indian who 
had made him prisoner, and whom he afterwards call- 
ed master. Having been conducted for some distance 
from the place of action, he was stripped of his coat, 
vest, stockings and shoes, loaded with as many of the 
packs of the wounded as could be piled upon him, 
strongly pinioned, and his wrists tied as closely toge- 
ther as they could be pulled with a cord. After he 
had marched, thro' no pleasant paths, in this painful 
manner, for many a tedious mile, the party, who were 
exceedingly fatigued, halted to breathe. His hands 
were now immoderately swelled, by the tightness of 
the ligature, and the pain had become intolerable ;■ — 
his feet were so much scratched, that the blood drop- 
ed fast from them. Exhausted, with bearing a burden 
above his strength, and frantic with torments exqui- 
site beyond endurance, he intreated the Interpreter to 
implore, as the last and only grace he desired of the 
Savages, that they would knock him on the head, and 
take his scalp at once, or loose his hands. A French 
officer instantly interposing, ordered his hands to be 
unbound, and some of the packs to be taken off. By 
this time, the Indian who had captured him, and had 
been absent with the wounded, coming up, gave him 
a pair of mocasons, and expressed great indignation 
at the unworthy treatment his prisoner had suffered. 

The Savage Chief again returned to the care of the 
wounded, and the Indians, about 200 in number, went 
before the rest of the party to the place where the whole 
were that night to encamp. They took with them 
Major Putnam ; they (besides innumerable other out- 
rages) had the barbarity to inilict a deep wound, with 

a 



a62 PUTNAM. 

a tomahawk, in his left cheek. His sufTerings were 
in this place to be consummated. A scene of horror,, 
infinitely greater than had ever met his eyes before, 
was now preparing. It was determined to roast him 
alive. — For this purpose, they led him into a dark fo- 
rest, stripped him naked, bound him to a tree, and 
piled dry brush, with other fuel, at a small distance, 
in a circle round him. They accompanied their la- 
bours, as if for his funeral dirge, with screams and 
sounds inimitable but by savage voices. Then they 
set the piles on fire. A sudden shower damped the 
rising flame ; — still they strove to kindle it, until, at 
last, the blaze i-an fiercely round the circle. Major 
Putnam soon began to feel the scorching heat. His 
hands were so tied that he could move his body ; — he 
often shifted sides as the Hre approached. The sight, 
at the very idea of which all but savages must shud- 
der, afforded the highest diversion to his inhuman 
tormentors, who demonstrated the delirium of their 
joy by correspondent yells, dances and gesticulations. 
He saw clearly that his final hour was inevitably come 
— he summoned all his resolution, and composed his 
mind, as far as the circumstances could admit, to bid 
an eternal farewell to all he held most dear. To quit 
the world would scarcely have cost him a single pang, 
but for the idea of home — but for the remembrance 
of those sweet endearments of the affectionate partner 
of his soul, and of their beloved offspring. His tJio't 
was ultimately fixed on a happier state of existence, 
beyond the tortures he was beginning to endure. The 
bitterness of death, even of that death Avhich is ac- 
companied with the keenest agonies, was, in a man- 
ner, passed — Nature, with a feeble struggle, was quit- 
ting its last hold on sublunary things — when a French 
officer rushed thro' the crowd, opened a way by scat- 
tering the burning brands, and unbound the victim. 
It was Molang himself — to whom a Savage, unwilling 
to see another human sacrifice immolated, had ran 
and communicated the tidings. That commandant 
spurned and severely reprimanded the barbarians, 

whose 



PUTNAM* 263 

whose hellish orgies he suddenly ended. Putnam did 
«ot want for feeling or gratitude. The French Com- 
mander, fearful to trust him alone with them, remain- 
ed, until he could deliver him, in safety, into the hands 
of his master. 

The Savage approached the prisoner kindly, ancl 
seemed to treat him with particular affection. He 
effered him some hard biscuit, but finding that he 
coukl not chew them, on account of the blow he had 
received from the Frenchman, this more humane Sa- 
vage soaked some of the biscuit in water, and made 
him suck the pulp-like part. Determined, however, 
not to lose his captive (the refreshment bcin.y^ linished), 
he took the mocasons from his feet, and tied them to 
one of his wrists; tlien, directing him to lie clown on 
liis back, upon the bare ground, he stretched one arm 
to its full length, and bound it fast to a young tree, 
the other arm extended and bound in the same man- 
ner — his legs were stretched apart, and fastened to 
two saplings. Then a number of tall, but slender, 
poles were cut down, which, with some long bushes, 
were laid across his body, from iiead to loot. On 
each side lay as many Indians as could conveniently 
find lodging, in order to prevent the possibility of his 
escape. In this disagreeable and painful posture, he 
remained until morning. During this night, the long- 
est and most dreary conceivable, our hero used to re- 
late, that he felt a ray of cheerfulness come casually 
across his mind, and could not even refrain from smil- 
ing, when he reflected on this ludicrous groupe for a 
painter, of whicli he himself was the principal figure. 

The next day he was allowed his blanket and mo- 
casons, and permitted to march without carrying any 
pack, or receiving any insult. To allay his extreme 
hunger, a little bear's meat was given him, which he 
sucked thro' his teeth. At night the paity arrived at 
Ticonderoga, and the prisoner was placed imder a 
French guard. The Savages, who had been prevent- 
ed from glutting their diabolical thirst for blood, took 
every opportunity of manifesting their malevolence 

for 



264 PUTNAM. 

for the disappointment, by horrid grimaces and angry 
gestures, but they were suffered no more to offer vio- 
lence or personal indignity to him. 

After having been examined by the Marquis de 
Montcalm, Major Putnam was conducted to Montreal 
by a French officer, who treated him with the greatest 
indulgence and humanity. 

At this place were several prisoners. Colonel Pe« 
ter Schuyler, remarkable for his philanthro'py, gene- 
rosity and friendship, was of the number. No sooner' 
had he heard of Major Putnam's arrival, than he went 
to the Interpreter's quarters, and enquired, whether 
he had a Provincial Major in his custody ? He found 
Major Putnam in a comfortless condition — without 
coat, waistcoat or hose — the remnant of his clothing 
miserably dirty and ragged — his beard long and squa- 
lid — his legs torn by thorns and briars — his facegasli- 
cd with wounds, and swollen with bruises. Colonel 
Schuyler, irritated beyond all sufferance at such a sight, 
could scarcely restrain his speech within limits, consist- 
ent with the prudence of a prisoner, and the meek- 
ness of a christian. Major Putnam was immediately 
treated according to his rank, clothed in a decent man- 
ner, and supplied with money by that sympathetic pa- 
tron of the distressed. 

The capture of Frotenac by Gen.Bradstreet, afford- 
ed occasion for an exchange of prisoners. Colonel 
Schuyler was comprehended in the cartel. A gene- 
rous spirit can never be satisfied with imposing tasks 
for its generosity to accomplish. Apprehensive, if it 
should be known, that Putnam was a distinguished 
partizan, his liberation might be retarded, and know- 
ing that there were officers, who from the length 
of their captivity, had a claim of priority to ex- 
change, he had, by his liappy address, induced the Go- 
vernor to otl'er, that whatever officer he might think 
proper to nominate, should be included in the present 
cartel. With great politeness in manner, but seem- 
ing indifference as to object, he expressed his warm- 
est acknowledgements to the Governor, and said, 

" There 



PUTNAM. 265 

«• There is an old man here, who is a Provincial Ma- 
jor, and wishes to be at home with his wife and chil- 
dren. He can do no good here, or any where else ; I 
believe your Excellency had belter keep some of the^ 
young- men, who have no wife or cliildren to care for, 
and let the old fellow go home with me." This fi- " 
nesse had the desired eflect. 

Peace at length took place between France and Eng. 
land — and Colonel Putnam, at the expiration of tea 
years from his first receiving a commission, after he^ 
had seen as much service, endured as many hardships, 
encountered as many dangers, and acquired as many 
laurels, as any officer of his rank, with great satisfac- 
tion returned, to his plough. The various and uncom- 
mon scenes of war in which he had acted a respectable 
part, his intercourse with the world, and intimacy with 
some of the first characters in the army, joined with oc- 
casional reading, had not only drawn into his view what- 
ever talents he possessed from nature, but, at the same 
time, had extended his knowledge, and polished his 
manners to a considerable degree. Not having be- 
come inflated with pride, or forgetful of his old con- 
iiectionsj he had the good fortune to possess entirely 
the good-will of his fellow-citizens. No character 
stood higher in the public eye for integrity, bravery, 
and patriotism. He was employed in several offices 
in his own town, and not unfretpiently elected to re- 
present it in the General Assembly. 

On the 22d day of March, 1765, the Stamp-Act 
received the Roijal Assent, it Vi/as to take place in 
America on the 1st day of November following. This 
innovation spread a sudden universal alarm ; the po- 
litical pulse in the provinces, from Main to Georgia, 
throbbed in sympathy. The Assemblies in most of 
tliese Colonies, that they might oppose it legally and 
in concert, appointed Delegates to confer together on 
the subject. Th|j First Congress met early in October 
at New-York. They agreed upon a Declaration of 
Rights and Grievances of the Colonists, together with 

N sc- 



266 PUTNAM. 

separate Addresses to the King, Lords and Commons 
of Great Britain. 

In speaking; of the troubles that ensued, I not only 
omit to say any thing on the obnoxious claim assert- 
ed in the British Deciaratoiy Act, the continuation of 
the duty on tea, the attempt to obtrude that article on 
the Americans, the abortion of this project, the Bos- 
ton-Port Bill, the alteration of the charter of Massa- 
chusetts, and other topics of universal notoriety ;— 
but even wave all discussions of irritations on the one 
part, and supplications on the other, which preceded 
the war between Great Britain and her Colonies.— 
Without digressing to develope the cause, or describe 
the progress, it niay suffice to observe, the dispute 
now verged precipitately to an awful crisis. Most 
considerate men foresaw it would terminate in blood. 
But, rather than sutter the chains (which they believ- 
ed in preparation) to be rivetted, they nobly determin- 
ed to sacrifice their lives. In vain did they deprecate 
the infatuation of those trans- Atlantic councils, which 
dvove them to deeds of desperation. Convinced of 
the rectitude of their cause, and doubtful of the issue, 
they felt the most painful solicitude for the fate of their 
country, on contemplating the superior strength of the 
nation with which it was to contend. America, but 
thinly inhabited, and under thirteen distinctColonialGo- 
vernments, could have little hopes of success but from 
he protection of Providence, and the unconquerable 
spirit of Freedom which pervaded the mass of the 
people. 

All eyes were now turned to find the men who 
possessed of militaiy experience, would dare, in the 
approaching hour of severest trial, to lead their un- 
disciplined Vellow-citizens to battle. For none were 
so stupid as not to comprehend, that want of success 
would involve the leaders in the punishment of rebel- 
lion. Putnam was among the first and most conspi- 
cncus wh.o stepped forth. Altho' the Americans had 
been, by many who wished their subjugation, indis- 
creetly stigmatised \Yith the imputation of cowardice 

— he 



f 



PUTNAM. 267 

—he felt — he knew for himself he was no coward ; 
and, from what he had seen and known, he believed 
that his countrymen, driven to the extremity of de- 
fending their rights by arms, would find no difficulty 
in wiping away the ungenerous aspersion. 

As he happened to be often at Boston, he held ma- 
ny conversations on the subject with General Gage, 
the Britisli Commander in Chief, and Lord Percy, 
Colonel Sheriff", Colonel Small, and many officers 
with whom he had formerly served, who were now at 
Head-Quarters. Being often questioned, "in -case 
the dispute should proceed to hostilities, what part he 
would really take?" He always answered, " with his 
Country, and that, whatever might happen, he was 
prepared to abide the consequence." Being interro- 
gated " whether he^ v/ho had been a witness to the 
prowess and victoj-ies of the British fleets and armies, 
did not think them equal to the conquest of a country 
which was not the owner of a single ship, regiment, 
or magazine ?" He rejoined, that, " he could only 
say, Justice \vould be on our side, and the event with 
Providence ; but that he had calculated, if it required 
6 years for the combined forces of England and her 
Colonies to conquer such a feeble country as Canada, 
it would, at least, take a very long time for England, 
alone, to overcome her own widely-extended Colonies, 
which were much stronger than Canada : That when 
men fought for every thing dear, in what they believ- 
ed to be the most sacred of all causes, and in their 
own native land, they would have great advantages 
over their enemies, who were not in the same situa- 
tion ; and that, liaving taken into view all circumstan- 
ces, for his own part, he fully believed that America 
would not be so easily conquered by England as those 
gentlemen seemed to expect," Being once, in parti- 
cular, asked, " whetlier he did not seriously believe, 
that "a well-appointed British army of 5000 veterans 
could march thro' the whole continent of America?" 
He replied briskly, " No doubt, if they behaved civil- 
ly, and paid for every thing they wanted ;" — but, after 

a 



a68 PUTNAM. 

a moment's pause, adclcd — " if they should attempt 
it in a hostile manner (tho' the American men were 
out of the question), the women, with their ladles and 
broomsticks, would knock them all on the head be- 
fore they had got half-way through," 

At length the fatal day arrived, when hostilities 
commenced. General Gage, in the evening of the 1 8th 
of April, 1776, detached from Boston the Grenadiers 
and Light Infantry of the army, commanded by Lieu- 
tenant Colonel Smith, to destroy some military stores 
deposited by the Province at Concord. About sun- 
rise the next morning, the detachment, on marching 
into Lexington, fired upon a company of Militia who 
had just reassembled ; for, having been alarmed late 
at night with reports that the Regulars wei-e advanc- 
ing to demolish the stores, they collected on their pa- 
i-ade, and were dismissed with orders to reassemble at 
beat of drum. It is established by affidavits of more 
than 30 persons v/ho were present, that the first fire, 
which killed 8 of the Militia, then beginning to dis- 
perse, was given by the British, without provocation. 
The spark of war, thus kindled, ran with unexampled 
rapidity, and raged with unwonted violence. To re- 
pel the aggression, the people of the bordering towns 
spontaneously rushed to arms, and poured their scat- 
tering shot from every convenient station upon the 
Regulars, who, after marching to Concord and de- 
stroying the Magazine, would have found their retreat 
intercepted, had they not been reinforced by Lord 
Percy, with the battalion companies of 3 regiments 
and a body of marines. Notwithstanding the junc- 
tion, they were hard pushed, and pursued until they 
could find protection from their ships. Of the British 
283 were killed, wounded and taken. The Americans 
had 39 killed, 19 wounded, and 2 made prisoners. 

Nothing could exceed the celerity with which the 
intelligence fiew every where, that blood had been 
shed by the British troops. The country, in motion, 
exhibited but one scene of hurry, preparation, and re- 
venge, Putnam, who was ploughing when he heard 

the 



PUTNAM. 269 

the news, left his plough in the middle of the field, 
unyoked his team, and, without waiting to change 
his clothes, set off for the theatre of action. But, 
finding the British had retreated to Boston, and invest- 
ed by a sufficient force, he came back to Connecticut, 
levied a regiment (under authority of the Legislature), 
and speedily returned to Cambridge. He was now 
promoted to be a Major- General of the Provincial 
Staff, and in a little time confirmed by Congress on 
the Continental establishment. 

Not long after this period, the Britihh Commander 
in Chief found the means to convey a proposal, pri- 
vately, to General Putnam, that, if he would relinquish 
the Rebel party, he might rely on being made a Ma- 
jor-Gencral on the British establishment, and receiving 
a great pecuniary compensation for his services. Ge- 
neral Putnam spurned at the offer, which, however, he 
thought prudent at that time to conceal from public 
notice. 

It could scarcely have been expected, but by those 
credulous patriots who were prone to believe whatever 
they ardently desired, that officers, assembled from 
Colonies distinct in their manners and prejudices — se- 
lected from laborious occupaiions to command a hete- 
rogeneous crowd of their equals, compelled to be sol- 
diers only by the spur of the occasion, should long be 
able to preserve harmony among themselves, and sub- 
ordination among their followers. As the fact would 
be a phenomenon, the idea was treated with mirth and 
mockery by the friends to the British Government, — 
Yet this unshapen embryo of a military Corps, com- 
posed of a militia, minute-men, volunteers and levies, 
with a burlesque appearance of a multiformity in arras, 
accoutrements, clothing and conduct, at last, grew in- 
to a regular Army 1 — an Army which, having vindi- 
cated the rights, of human nature, and established the 
Independence of a new Empire, merited and obtained 
the glorious distinction of the Patriot Army — the 
patriot army, whose praises for fortitude in adversity, 
bravery in battle, moderation in conquest, jjcsL^verancc 

iii 



%Jo PUTNAM. 

in supporting^ the cruel extremities 6f hunger and na- 
kedness without a murmur or sig;h, as well as for their 
magnanimity in retiring to civil life, at the moment 
of victory, with arms in their hands, and without any 
just compensation for their services, will only cease to 
be celebrated, when time shall exist no more. 

The Provincial Generals having received advice that 
the British Commander in Chief designed to take pos- 
session of the heights on the peninsula of Charles- 
Town, detaclied 1000 men in the night of the 16ih of 
Jime, under the orders of General Warren, to en- 
trench themselves upon one of these eminences nam- 
ed Bunker's-Hill. Tho' retarded by accidents from 
beginning the work until nearly midnight, yet, by 
dawn of day, they had constructed a redoubt about 8 
rods square, and commenced a breastwork from the 
left to the low grounds, which an insufferable fire 
from the shipping, floating batteries, and cannon on 
Cop's-flill, in lioston, prevented them from complet- 
ing. At mid-day, 4 battalions of foot, 10 companies 
of light infantry, with a proportion of artillery, com- 
manded by Major General Howe, landed under an 
heavy cannonade from the ships, and advanced in 3 
lines to the attack. The Light Infantry, being form- 
ed on their righr, was directed to turn the left flank 
of the Americans — and the Grenadiers, supported by 
2 battalions, to storm the redoubt in front. Mean- 
while, on application, these troops were augmented 
by the 47th regiment, the 1st battalion of Marines, 
together with some companies of Light Infantry and 
Grenadiers, which formed an aggregate force of be- 
tween 3 and 4000 men. But so ditlicult was it to re- 
inforce the Americans, by sending detachments across 
the Neck, which was raked by the cannon of the ship- 
ping, that not more than 1500 men v/ere brought into 
action. Few instances can be produced in the annals 
of mankind, where soldiers, who had never before fa- 
ced an enemy, or heard the whistling of a ball, be- 
haved with such deliberate and persevering valour. 

It 



PUTNAM. ^7^ 

It was not till after the Grenadiers had been twice 
repulsed to their boats, General Warren slain, his 
troops exhausted of their aminunition, their lines in 
a manner enfiladed by artillery, and the redoubt half- 
filled with British Regulars, that the word was given 
to retire. In that forlorn condition, the spectacle was 
as astonishing as new, to behold these undisciplined 
incn, most of them without bayonets, disputing, with 
the butt-ends of their muskets, against the I3ritish 
bayonet, and receding in sullen despair. Still the 
Light Infantry, on their lett, would certainly have 
gained their rear, and exterminated this gallant little 
corps, had not a body of 400 Connecticut men, with 
the Captains Knowlton and Chester, after forming a 
temporary breast-work by pulling up one post and rail 
ience and putting it upon another, performed prodi- 
gies of bravery. They held the enemy at bay until 
the main body had relinquislied the heights, and tlien 
retreated across the Neck wiih more regularity and 
less loss than could l-ave been expected. The British, 
who effected nothing but the destruction of Charles- 
Town, by a wanton conHagralion, had more than one 
half of their number killed and wounded ; the Ame- 
ricans only Q>55 killed, wounded, and missing. In 
this battle, the presence and example of General Put- 
nam, who arrived with the reinforcement, were not 
less conspicuous than useful. He did every thing 
that an intrepid and experienced oflicer could accom- 
plish. The enemy pursued to W'inter-Hill — Putnam 
made a stand, and drove them back under cover of 
their ships. 

After this action, tl.e British strongly fortlHed them- 
selves on the peninsulas of Boston and Chaiits-Town, 
while the Provincials remained posted in the circum- 
jacent country, in such a manner as to form a block- 
ade. In the beginning of July, General Washington, 
who had been constituted by Congress Commander in 
Chief of the American forces, arrived at Canibritlge, 
to take the command. Havina: formed the armv into 
3 grand divisions^ consisting of about 12 regiments 

tiich, 



272 PUTNAIVr. 

each, he appointed General Ward to command the 
rii^ht wing, and Major General Lee the left wing, and 
Major General Putnam the reserve. General Put- 
nam's alertness, in accelerating the construction of 
tlie necessary defences, was particularly noticed and 
highly approved by the Commander in Chief. 

About the 10th of July, the Declaration of Congress, 
setting forth their reasons for taking up arms, was 
proclaimed at the head of the several divisions. it 
concluded with these patriotic and noble sentiments : — 
<* In our own native land, in defence of the freedom 
thiit is our birth-right, and which we ever enjoyed un- 
til the late violation of it ; for the protection of our 
property, acquired solely by the honest industry of 
our forefathers and ourselves ; against violence actual- 
ly oBered, we tai^e up arms. We shall lay them 
down when hostilities shall cease on the part of the 
aggressors, and all danger of their being renewed shall 
be removed, and not before. With an humble confi- 
dence in the mercies of the Supreme and Impartial 
Judge and Ruler of the Universe, we most devoutly 
implore his Divine goodness to conduct us happily 
ibro' this great conflict, to dispose our adversaries to 
reconciliation upon reasonable terms, and, thereby, to 
relieve the empire from the calamities of civil war." 
As soon us these memorable words were pronounced 
lo General Putnam's division, which he had ordered 
to be paraded on Prospect-Hill, they shouted, in three 
huzzas, a lotid Amen ! whereat (a cannon from the 
Foit being fired as u signal), the new Standard, lately 
sent from Connecticut, was suddenly seen to rise and 
\ini-oll itself to the wind. — On one side Mas inscribed, 
in large letters of gold, " An Appeal to PIeaven,'' 
and on the other were delineated the armorial bear- 
ings of Connecticut, which, without supporters or 
crest, consist, unostentatiously, of three vines, with 
this motto, " Qui transtidit sustinct ;" alluding to the 
pious confidence our forefathers placed in the protec- 
tion of Heaven, on those three allegorical scions- 
had 



PUTNAM. 2S1 

The enemy had vainly as incautiously imagined 
that to over-run was to conquer. They had even car- 
ried their presumption on our extreme weakness and 
submission, so far as to attempt covering- the country 
they had marched thro' with an extensive chain of 
cantonments. That link which the post at Trenton 
supplied, consisted of a Hessian brigade of infantry, 
a company of chasseurs, a squadron of light dra- 
goons, and 6 field-pieces. At 8 o'clock in the morn- 
ing of the 26th of December, General Washington, 
with 2400 men, came upon them (after they had pa- 
raded), took 1000 prisoners, and repassed, the same 
davj without loss, to his encampment. As soon as 
the troops were recovered from their excessive fatigue, 
General Washington recrossed a second time to 
Trenton. On the 2d of January, Lord Cornwallis, 
with the bulk of the British army, advanced upon 
him, cannonaded his post, and offered him battle ; 
but the two armies being separated by the interposi- 
tion of Trenton Creek, General Washington had it 
in his option to decline an engagement, which he did 
for the sake of striking a masterly stroke that he me- 
ditated. Having kindled fires around his camp, post- 
ed faithful men to keep them burning, .and advanced 
centinels whose fidelity might be relied upon, he de- 
camped silently after dark, and, by a circuitous route, 
reached Princeton at 9 o'clock the next morning.— 
The noise of the iiring, by which he killed and cap- 
tured 5 or 600 of the British brigade in that town, 
was the first notice Lord Cornwallis had of his stolen 
march. General Washington, the project successl'ul- 
ly accomplished, instantly filed off for the mountain- 
ous grounds of IVIorris-Town, Meanwhile, his Lord- 
ship, who arrived, by a forced march, at Princeton, 
just as he had left it, finding the Americans could not 
be overtaken, proceeded without halting to Brunswick. 

On the 5th of January 1777, from Pluckemin, Ge- 
neral Washington dispatched an account of this se- 
cond success to General Putnam, and ordered him 
immediately to move with all his troops to Crosswix, 

for 



x8i PUTNAM. 

for the purpose of co-operating in recovering the Jer- 
seys ; an event which the present fortunate juncture 
(while the enemy were yet panic-sLruck) appeared to 
projnise. The General cautioned him, however, if 
the enemy should still continue at Brunswick, to guard 
with great circumspection against a surprise : especi- 
ally, as they having recently suffered by two attacks, 
could scarcely avoid being edged with resentment to 
attempt retaliation. His Excellency farther advised 
him to give out his strength to be twice as great as it 
was ; to forward on all the baggage and scattering men 
belonging to the division destined for Morris-Town ; 
to employ as many spies as he should think proper; 
to keep a number of horsemen in the dress of the 
country, going constantly backwards and forwards on 
the same secret service ; and lastly, if he should dis- 
cover any intention or motion of the enemy that could 
be depended ujxjn and might be of consequence, not 
to fail in conveying the intelligence as rapidly as pos- 
sible by express to Head Quarters. Major General 
Putnam was directed soon after to take post at Prince- 
ton, where he continued until spring. He had never 
with him more than a few hundred troops, tho' he 
was only a^ 15 miles distance from the enemy's strong 
garrison at Brunswick. At one period from a sudden 
diminution, occasioned by the tardiness of the militia 
turning out to replace those whose time of service 
was expired, he had fewer men for duty than he had 
miles of frontier to guard — Nor was the Commander 
in Chief in a more eligible situation. It is true, t))at, 
while he had scarcely the semblance of an army, un- 
der the spacious parade of a park of artillery, and 
the imposing appearance of his Head Quarters esta- 
blishing at Morris-Town, he kept up in the eyes of his 
countrymen, as well as in the opinion of the enemy, 
the appearance of no contemptibie force. Future ge- 
nerations will find diilicuUy in conceiving how a 
handful of men and militia, who were necessitated to 
be inoculated for the small pox in the course of the 
winter, could be sub-divided and posted so advanta- 
geous- 



PUTNAM. 283 

geously, as effectually to protect the inhabitants, con* 
line the enemy, curtail their forage, and beat up their 
quarters, without sustaining a single disaster. 

In the battle of Princeton, Capt. M'Pherson, of 
the 17th British regiment, a very worthy Scotchman, 
was desperately wounded in the lungs and left with 
the dead. Upon General Putnam's arrival there, he 
found him languishhig in extreme distress, without 
a surgeon, without a single accommodation, and with- 
out a friend to solace his sinking spirit in the gloomy 
hour of death. Ke visited and immediately caused 
every possible comfort to be administered to him.— 
Captain M'Pherson, who, contrary to all apearances 
recovered, after having demonstrated to General Put- 
nam the dignified sense of obligations which a gene- 
rous mind wishes not to conceal, one day demanded 
in familiar conversation — " Pray, Sir, what country- 
man are you ?" — " An American," answered the lat- 
ter. — " Not a Yankee ?" said the other, — " A full- 
blooded one," replied the General — " By G — d, I 
am sorry for that," replied M'Pherson, " I did not 
think there could be so much goodness and generosity 
in an American, or, indeed in any body but a Scoth- 
man!" 

While the recovery of Capt. M'Phereoa was doubt- 
ful, he desired that General Putnam would permit a 
friend in the British army at Brunswick to come and 
assist him in making his will. General Putnam, who 
had then only fifty men in his whole command, was 
sadly embarrassed by the proposition. On the one 
hand, he was not content that a British officer should 
have an opportunity to spy out the weakness of his 
post ; on the other, it was scarcely in his nature to re- 
fuse complying with a dictate of humanity. He luck- 
ily bethought himself of an expedient, which he has- 
tened 10 put into practice. A Flag of Truce was dis- 
patched with Capt. M'Pherson's request, but under 
an injunction not to return with his friend till after 
dark. In the evening, lights were placed in all the 
College windows, and in every apartment of the va- 
cant 



2'S4 PUTNAM. 

cant houses throughout the town. During the whole- 
night, the fifty men, sometimes all together, and 
sometimes in small detachments, were marched from 
different quarters, by the house in which M'Pherson 
lay. Afterwards it was known, that the officer who 
came on the visit, at his return, reported that Gene- 
ral Putnam's army on the most moderate calculation 
could not consist of less than 4 or 5000 men. 

When the spring had now so far advanced that it 
was obvious the enemy would soon take the field, the 
Commander in Chief, after desiring General Putnam 
to give the officer who was to relieve him at Princeton, 
all the information necessary for the conduct of that 
post, appointed that General to the command of a se- 
parate army in the Highlands of New- York. 

It is scarcely decided, from any document yet pub- 
lished, whether the preposterous plans prosecuted by 
the British Generals, in the campaign of 1777, were 
altogether the result of their orders from home, or 
whether they partially originated from the contmgen- 
cies of the moment. The system, which, at the 
time, tended to puzzle all human conjecture, when de- 
veloped, served, also, to contradict all reasonable cal- 
culation. Certain it is, the American Commander in 
Chief was so perplexed with contradictory appearan- 
ces, that he knew not how to distribute his troops 
M'ith his usual discernment, so as to oppose the ene- 
my with equal prospect of success in diii'erent parts. 
The gathering tempesls menaced the Northern fron- 
tiers, the posts in the highlands, and the city of Phi- 
ladelphia; but it was still doubtful where the fury of 
the storm would fall — At one time, Sir William Howe 
was forcing his way by land to Philadelphia — at ano- 
ther, relinquishing the Jei'seys — at a third, facing 
round to make a sudden inroad — then, embarking with 
all the forces that could be spared from New- York, 
and then putting out to sea — at the very moment 
when General Burgoyne had reduced Ticonderoga, 
and seemed to require a co-operation in another quar- 
ter. 

It 



PUTNAM. 2«5 

It was not wonderful that many of the Tories were 
able, undiscovered, to penetrate far into the country, 
und even to go with letters, or messages, from one 
British army to another. The inhabitants, who were 
well affected to the Royal cause, afforded them every 
possible support, and their own knowledge of the dif- 
ferent routes, gave them a farther facility in perform- 
ing their peregrinations. Sometimes, the most active 
Loyalists, who had gone into the British posts and re- 
ceived promises of commissions upon enlisting a cer- 
tain number of soldiers, came back again, secretly, 
with recruiting instructions. Sometimes, these and 
others, who came from the enemy within the verge 
of our camps, were detected and condemned to death, 
in conformity to the usages of war. But the British 
Generals, who had an unlimited supply of money at 
their command, were able to pay with so much liber- 
ality, that emissaries could always be found. Still, it 
it is thought, that the intelligence of the American 
Commanders was, at least, equally accurate, notwith- 
standing the poverty of their mihtary chest, and the 
inability of rewarding mercenary agents for secret ser- 
vices. 

A person, of the name of Palmer, who was a Lieu- 
tenant in the Tory new levies, was detected in the 
camp at Peek's-Kill. Governor Tryon, who com- 
manded the new levies, reclaimed him as a British of- 
ficer, and represented the heinous crime of condemn- 
I ing a man commissioned by his Majesty, and threat- 
ening vengeance in case he should be executed. Ge- 
neral Putnam wrote the following pithy reply : 

" Sir, Nathan Palmer, a Lieutenant in your King's 
service, was taken in my camp as a spy ; he was tried 
as a spy — he was condemned as a spy — and he shall 
be hanged as a spy. 

Israel Putnam." 
" P.S. Afternoon — He is hanged." 

Sights of wretchedness always touched with com- 
miseration the feehngs of General Putnam, and prompt- 
ed his generous soul to succour the aillicled. But the 

in- 



a86 PUTNAM. 

indulgence which he shewed (whenever it did not mi- 
litate ai;ainst his duty) towards the deserted and suf- 
ii-'ving families ot the Tories in the state of New- 
York, was the cause of his becoming unpopular with 
no inconsiderable class of people in that State. On 
the other side, he had conceived an unconquerable a- 
version to many of the persons who were entrusted 
with the disposal of Tory property, because he be- 
lieved them to have been guilty of peculations and 
other infamous practices. 

His character was also respected by the enemy.— 
He had been acqu^nted with many of the Provincial 
officers in a former war. As flags frequently passed 
between the out-posts, during his continuance on the 
lines, it was a common practice to forward the news- 
papers by them, and as those printed by Rivington, 
the Royal pnnter in New- York, were infamous for the 
falsehoods with which they abounded, General Put- 
nam once sent a packet to his old friend General Ro- 
bertson, with this billet : " Major-General Putnam 
presents his compliments to Major-General Robert- 
son, and sends him some American news-papers for 
his perusal — when General Robertson shall have done 
with them, it is requested that they may be given to 
Rivington, in order that he may print some truth.'* 

Late in the year, he left the lines, and repaired to 
the highlands ; for, upon the loss of Fort Montgome- 
ry, the Commander in Chief determined to build ano- 
ther fortification for the defence of the river. His 
Excellency, accordingly, wrote to General Putnam, to 
fix upon the spot. After reconnoitring all the differ- 
ent places proposed, and revolving in his own mind 
their relative advantages, for offence on the water and 
defence on the land, he fixed upon West-Point. It is 
no vulgar praise to say, that to him belongs the glory 
of having chosen this rock of our niiUtary salvation. 
The position for water-batteries, which might sweep 
the channel where the river fonned a right angle, 
made it the most proper of any for commanding the 
navigation ; while the locky ridges, that rose in awful 

sub- 



PUTNAM. 287 

sublimity behind each other, rendered it impregna- 
ble, and even incapable of being invested by less than 
20,000 men. The British, who considered this j)ost 
as a kijid of American Gibraltar, never attempted it 
but by the treachery of an American officer. AH the 
world knows that this project failed, and that West- 
Point continues to be the receptacle of every thing 
valuable in military preparations to the present day. 

In the campaign of 1779, which terminated the 
career of Geneial Putnam's services, he commanded 
the Maryland line post at Buttermilk falls, ul)out two 
miles below West Point. Pie was happy in possess- 
ing the friendship of the officers of that Line, and in 
living on terms of hospitahty with them. Indeed 
there was no family in the army lived better than his 
own. The General, his second son Major Daniel 
Putnam, and the writer of these Memoirs,* compos- 
ed that family. This campaign, principally spent in 
strengthening the works of West Point, was only 
signalized for the storm of Stony Point by the light 
infantry under the conduct of General Wayne, and 
the surprize of the post of Powel's Hook by the corps 
under the command of Colonel Henry Lee. 

When the army quitted the held and marched to 
Morris-Town into winter quarters. General Putnam's 
family went into Connecticut for a few weeks. In 
December, the General began his journey to Morris- 
Town. Upon the road between Pom fret and Hartford, 
he felt an unusual torpor slowly pervading his right 
hand and foot. This heaviness crept gradually on, and 
until it had deprived him of the use of his limbs on 
that side, in a considerable degree, before he reached 
the house of his friend Colonel Wadsworth. Still 
he was unwilling to consider his disorder of the para- 
lytic kind, and endeavoured to shake it oiT by exer- 
tion. Having found that impossible, a temporary de- 
jection, disguised however under a veil of assumed 
chearfulness, succeeded. But reason, and religion 

soon 

* Colonel Hnrnphreys. 



a88 PUTNAM, 

soon reconciled him lo his fate. In that sitiuitioti he 
has constantly remained, favoured with such a por- 
tion of bodily activity as enables him to walk and 
to ride moderately; and retaining unimpaired-his re- 
lish for enjoyment, his love of pleasantry, his strength 
of memory, and all the faculties of his mind. As a 
proof that the powers of memory are not weakened, 
it ought to be observed, that he has lately repeated 
from recollection, all the adventures of his life, which 
are here recorded, and which had formerly been com- 
municated to the Compiler in detached conversations. 

To illustrate his merits the more fully, this sketch 
will be concluded with a copy of the last letter written 
to him, by General Washington, in his military cha- 
racter. 

Head-Quarters^ 'Id June ^ 1780. 
" Dear Sir, 

" Your favour of the 20th of May I received with 
much pleasure — For, I can assure you, that, among 
the many worthy and meritorious officers, with whom 
I have had the happiness to be connected in service, 
thro' the course of this war, and from whose chearful 
assistance in the various and trying vicissitudes of a 
complicated contest, the name of Putnam is not forgot- 
ten, nor will be, but with that stroke of time which 
shall obliterate from my mind the remembrance of all 
those toils and fatigues thro' which we have struggled 
for the preservation and establishment of the Rights^ Li, 
bertiesy and Independence of our Country. 

" Your congratulations on the happy prospect of 
Peace and Independant security, with their attendant 
blessings to the United States, I receive with great 
satisfaction ; and beg that you will accept of a re- 
turn of my congratulations to yon on this auspicious 
event — an event in which, great as it is in itself, and 
glorious as it will probably be in its consequences, 
you have a right to participate largely, from the dis- 
tinguished part you have contributed towards its at- 
tainment. 

But, 



PUTNAM. 2?9 

■" ^ut, while I contemplate the g-rcatness of the ob*. 
ject for which we have contended, and felicitate you 
on the happy issue of our toils and labours, wh'ich 
have terminated with such general satisfaction, I la- 
ment, that you should feel the ungra.tcful returns of a 
country, in whose service you have exhausted your 1)0- 
dily strength, and expended the vigour of a youthful 
constitution. I wish, however, that your expectations 
of returning liberality may be verified ; I hope they 
may ; but should they not, your case will not be a 
lingular one. " Ingratitude has been experienced in all 
ages ; and Republics, in particular, have ever been fam- 
ed for the exercise of that unnatural and sordid vice."* 

" The Secretary at War, who is now here, informs 
me, that you have ever been considered as entitled to 
full pay since your absence from the field ; and that 
you will still be considered in that light till the close 
of the war, at which period, you will be equally enti^ 
tied to the same emoluments of half-yay, as any 
other officer of your rank. The same opinion is al- 
so given by the Pay-Master General, who is now with 
the army, impowered, by Mr. Morris, for the settle- 
ment of all their accounts, and who will attend to 
yours, whenever you shall think proper to send for 
that purpose — which it will, probably, be best for you 
to do in a short time. 

" 1 anticipate, with pleasure, the day (and that, I 
trust, not far off) when I sliall quit the busy scenes of 
a military employment, and retii^e to the more tran- 
quil walks of a domestic life. In that, or whatever 
other situation Providence may dispose of my future 
days, the remembrance of the many friendships and 
connections I have had the happiness to contract with 
the Gentlemen of the Army, will be one of my most 
grateful reflections. Under this contemplation, and 
impressed with the sentiments of Bcnevoience and 

O Re- 

* It is to be lamented, that this oblervation (which is not 
a new one) ftinuld have received the fandtion of Gen Wafl.i.i'r. 
ton's name— We hope the people of Ameiica are not, not 
«ver will be, ungrateful to the founders of their libei-ty. 



2(^© * PUTNAM. 

Regard, I commend ycu, my dear Sir, my other 
friends, and, with them, the interests and happiness 
of our dear country, to the keeping and protection of 
. Ahnighty God. 

I have tlie honour to be, &c. 

6', IVASI/IXGTOA"." 
2h the Honourable 

JMajor-Generul Putnam.* 

* Gen. Putnam died in May 179c. 



DAVID IlITTENHOUSE, 

President of the American Philosophical 

Society. t 

DAVID IlITTENHOUSE was born in German- 
tov/n on the 8th of April, 1732 —his ancestors 
juigrated from Holland about the beginning of the 
present century. They were distinguished, together 
with his parents, for probity, industry, and simple 
manners. It is from sources thus pure and retired, 
that those talents and virtues have been chiefly deriv- 

fc"d, which have in. all ages enlightened the world. 

They prove by their humble origin, that the Supreme 
Being has not surrendered up the direction of human 
t\i fairs to the advantages acquired by accident or vice, 
and they bear a constant and faithful testimony of his 
impartial goodness, by their necessary and regular in- 
fluence in equalizing the condition of mankind. This 
-is the divine order of things, and every attempt to in- 
vert it, is a weak and unavailing eflbit to wrest tha 
government of the world from the hands of God. 

The early part of th.e life of Mr. Rittenhouse was 
spent in agricultural employments under the eye of 
his lather, in tlie county of Moritgomery, twenty 
niiles from Pliiladelphia, to which place he removed 

during 

\ Delivered by Dr. Ru(h in an oration before the Societr 
Tjth Dec. 1796. 



IIITTENHOUSE. 291 

(luring the childhood of his son. It was at this place 
his peculiar genius first discovered itself. His plouj^h, 
the fences, and even the stones of ijie field in winch 
he worked, were frequently marked with figures 

which denoted a talent for mathematical studies 

Upon finding that the native delicacy of his constitu- 
tion unHtted him for the labours of husbandry, his pa- 
rents consented to his learning the trade of a dock 
and mathematical instrument maker. In acquirino- 
the knowledge of these useful arts, he was his own 
instructor — They aflbrded him great delight, inas- 
much as they favoured his disposition to inquire into 
the principles of natural philosophy Constant em- 
ployment of any kind, even in the practice of the 
mechanical arts, has been found in many instances, 
to administer vigour to human genius. Franklin stu- 
died the laws of nature, while" he handled his print- 
mg types. The father of Rousseau, a jeweller at Ge- 
neya, became acquainted with the principles of nation- 
al jurisprudence, by listening to his Fon while he read 
to him in his shop, the works of Grotius and PuKen- 
dorf ;— and Hersciiel conceived the great idea of a 
new planet, while he e;iercised the humble oaice of 
a musician to a inarching regiment. 

It was during the residence of our ingenious pliilo- 
sopher with his father in the countrv, that he made 
himself master of Sir Isaac Newton's Pniid/tia 
which he read in the English translation of Mr. Mott! 
--.It was here likewise he became acquainted with 
Fluxions, of which sublime invention he believed him- 
self for a while to be the author, nor did he know for 
some years afterwards, that a contest had been carri- 
ed on between Sir Isaac Newton and -Liebnitz, for 
the honoi of tluit great and useful discover\-. Wh-it 
a mmd was here !— ^Vithout literary friends or soci- 
ety, and with but two or three books, he became, be- 
fore he had reached his four and twentieth year, the 
rival of the two greatest mathematicians in Furope ' 

It was in this retired situation, and while cmplo'y- 
ed m working at his trade, that he planned and exe- 
cuted 



492 ' RITTENHOUSE, 

cuted ati orrery ,in which he represented the revolutioiis 
of the heavenly bodies in a manner more extensive and 
complete than had been done by any former astrono- 
mers. A correct description of this orrery dra\vn up 
by the Rev. Dr. Smith, is pubUshed in the first vo- 
lume of our Transactions. This master-piece of in- 
genious mechanism was purchased by the College of 
New- Jersey. A second was made by him, after the 
same model, for the use of the College of Philadel- 
phia. It now forms part of the philosophical appa- 
ratus of the University of Pennsylvania, where it has 
for many years commanded the admiration of the 
ingenious and the learned, from every part of the 
world. 

The reputation he derived from the construction of 
this orrery, as well as his general character for ma- 
thematical knowledge, attracted the notice of his fel- 
low-citizens in Pennsylvania, and in several of the 
neighbouring states, but the discovery of his uncom- 
mon merit belonged chiefiy to his brother-in-law, the 
llev. Mr. Barton, Dr. Smith, and the late Mr. John 
Lukens, an ingenious mathematician of Philadelphia. 
These gentlemen fully appreciated his talents, and 
united in urging him to remove to this city, in order 
to enlarge his opportunities of improvement and use- 
fulness. He yielded with reluctance to their advice, 
and exchanged his beloved retirement in tlie country 
for this city, in the year 1770. Here he continued 
for several years, to follow his occupation of a clock 
and mathematical insti*ument maker. He excelled in 
both branches of that business. His mathematical 
instruments Iiave been esteemed by good judges to be 
superior in accuracy and workmanship to any of the 
same kind that have been imported from Europe. 

Al)out the time he settled in Philadelphia, he be- 
came a member of our Society. Plis first communi- 
cation to the Society was a calculation of the transit 
of Venus as it was to happen on the third of June, 
1769, in 40 north latitude, and 5 hours west longitude 
from Greenwich. He was one of a committee ap- 
pointed 



RITTENHOUSE, 293 

pointed by the Society, to observe in the township of 
Norriton, this rare occurence in the revolution of that 
l)lanet, and bore an active part in the preparations 
which were made for that purpose. 

We- are naturally led here to take a view of our phi- 
losopher with his associates in their preparations to 
observe a phenomenon, which had never been seen 
but twice before by any inhabitant of our earth, ami 
which would never be seen again by any person then 
living, and on which depended very important astro- 
nomical consequences. The night before the long- 
expected day, was probably passed in a degree of so- 
licitude which precluded sleep. How great must have 
been their joy when they beheld the morning sun, 
" and the whole horizon without a cloud ;" for such 
is the description of the day given by Mr. Ritten- 
house in the report referred to by Dr. Smith. In pen- 
sive silence and trembling anxiety, they waited for the 
predicted moment of observation ; it came and bro't 
with it all that had been wished for and expected by 
those who saw it. In our philosopher, it excited in 
the instant of one of the contacts of the planet with 
the sun, an emotion of delight so exquisite and pow- 
erful, as to induce fainting. This will readily be be- 
lieved by those who have known the extent of that 
pleasure which attends the discovery or first percep- 
tion of truth. Soon after tins event, we find him act- 
ing as one of a committee appointed to observe the 
transit of Mercury on the 9th of November in the 
same year. This was likewise done at Norriton ; an 
account of it was drawn up, and published at the re- 
quest of the committee, by Dr. Smith. A minute 
history of the whole of these events, in wliich Mr. 
Rittenhouse acted a distinguished part, is given in 
our transactions. It was received with great satisfac- 
tion by the astronomers of Europe, and contributed 
much to raise the character of our then infant country 
for astronomical knowledge. 

In the year 1775, he was appointed to compose and 
deliver the annual oration before our society. The 

sub- 



2^4. RITTENHOUSE, 

subject of it, was the Kistoiy of Astronomy. The 
languag-e of this oration is simple, but the sentiments 
contained in it are ingenious, original, and in some 
instances sublime. Astronomy was the favourite ob- 
ject of Mr. Rittenhouse's studies — Attempts have 
been made to depreciate this branch of Natural Philo- 
sophy ; but it is easy to shew the advantages of this 

Science It is to Astronomy that we are indebted 

for our knowledge of navigation, by which means the 
different parts of our globe have been discovered, and 
afterwards cemented together by the mutual wants. 
and obliccations of commerce. 

It v/as Astronomy that taught mankind the art oF 
predicting and explaining the eclipses of the Sun and 
Moon, and thereby delivered them from the supersti- 
tion, wliich, in the early ages of the world, was con- 
nected with those phxnomena of nature. 

We are taught by Astronomy to correct our ideas 
of the visible heavens, and thus by discovering the fa- 
lacy of the simple evidence of our senses, to call to 
iheir aid, the use of our reason, in deciding upon all 
inaterial objects of human knowledge. 

Astronomy has the most powerful influence upon 
morals and religion, " Yes (says our philosopher in 
another part of his oration) the direct tendency of 
this science is to dilate the heart with universal bene- 
volence, and to enlarge its views. It flatters no 
princely vice, nor national depravity. It encourages 
not the libertine by relaxing any of the precepts of Mo- 
rality, nor does it attempt to undermine the founda- 
tions of Religion ; it denies none of those attributes, 
which the wisest and best of mankind have in all ages 
ascribed to the Deity. Nor does it degrade the hu- 
man mind from that dignity which is ever necessary 
to make it contemplate itself with complacency." 

Talents so splendid, and knowledge so practical in 
mathematics, are like mines of precious metals. They 
become public property by universal consent. The 
State of Pennsylvania was not insensible of the wealth 
j.he possessed in tlie mind of Mr. Rittenhouse. She 

claini- 



RiTTENHOUSE. 295 

claimed bim as her own, and employed him in busi- 
neas of the utmost importance. 

In the year 1779, he was appointed, by the Legi- 
slature of Pennsylvania, one of the Commissioners for 
adjusting a territorial dispute between Pennsylvania 
and Virginia, and to his talents, moderation and firm- 
ness, were ascribed, in a great degree, the satisfacto- 
tory termination of that once alarming controversy, in 
the year 1785. 

In 1784, he assisted in determining^ the Ien«-th of 
5 degrees of longitude from a point on the Delaware, 
in order to nx the western limits of Pennsylvania. 

In 1786, he was employed in fixing* the northern 
line which divides Pennsylvania from New- York. 

But the application of his talents and knov/ledge to 
the settlement of territorial disputes, was not confin- 
ed to his native state. In the year 1769, he was em- 
ployed in settling the limits betv/een New-Jersey an"d 
New- York ; and, in 1787, he was called upon to assist 
in fixing the boundary line between the States of IVlas- 
sachusetts and New- York. This last business, which 
was executed with his usual precision and integrity, 
was his farewel peace-olTerinij to the union and happi- 
ness of his country. 

In his excursions thro' the wilderness, he carried 
with him his habits of inquiry and observation. No- 
thing in our mountains, soils, rivers, and springs, es- 
caped his notice. It is to be himented, tJiat his pri- 
vate letters, and the memories of his friends, are the 
only records of what he collected upon these occasions. 
— Philosopher I or Natutalist ! whosoever ihcu art, 
that shalt hereafter traverse the unfrequented woods 
of our State, forget not to respect the paths, first 
marked by the feet of this ingenious and faithful ser- 
vant of the public — horiour the fountains consecrated 
to Science by his skilful har.d — and itihale, with dou- 
ble pleasure, the pure atmosphere of the mountains, 
on which he renewed his acquaintance with the cano- 
py of Heaven, after passing whole w^eeks in forests, 
so shady as to conceal from liim the rays of the suu 

and, 



%^y RITTENHOUSE. 

—and, citizens ol Pennsylvayiia^ frijnds and patrons oF 
Literature, be grateful for his services—let the re- 
membrance of them be dear to the present genera- 
tion — and let a part of the State, distinguished in a 
more especial manner for its resources in natural 
knowledge, bear his name, ^vith honour, to the latest 
posterity. 

In the ye?r 1791, he was chosen successor to Dr. 
Franklin in the chair of our Society. In this elevate- 
«*d station, the highest that Philosophy can confer in 
GUI' country, his conduct was marked by its usual pro- 
priety and dignity. Never did the artificial pomp of 
station command half the respect which followed his 
unassumiijg manners in the discharge of the public du- 
ties of his office. You will often recollect, Gentle- 
men, with a mixture of pleasure and pain, the delight- 
ful evenings you passed in the Society, every time he 
presided in your meetings. They were uniformly 
characterised by ardour in the pursuits of science, ur- 
banity, and brotherly kindness. His attachment to 
the interests of the Society was evinced, soon after he 
accepted the President's chair, by a donation of 300/, 

But his talents and knowledge were not limited to 
mathematical or material subjects — his. mind was a 
repository of the knowledge of all ages and countries. 
He had early and deeply studied most of the different 
systems of Theology. He was well acquainted with 
pi-actical Metaphysics. In reading travels he took 
great delight. From them he drew a large fund of 
his knowledge of the natural history of our Globe. 
T;Ie possessed talents for music and poetry ; but the 
more serious and necessary pursuits of his life pre- 
vented his devoting much time to the cultivation of 
them. He read the English poets with great plea- 
sure. The muse of Thomson charmed him most : 
He admired his elegant combination of Philosophy 
and Poetry. However opposed these studies may ap-. 
pear, they alike derive their perfection from extensive 
and accurate observations of the works of Nature.— - 
Hq was intimately acquainted with the French, Gei:- 

maa 



RITTENHOUSET. 297 

man and Dutch languages, the two former of which 
he acquired without the assistance of a master. They 
served the vahiable purpose of conveying to him the 
discoveries of foreign nations, and, thereby, enabled 
him to prosecute his studies with more advantange in 
his native language. 

In speaking of Mr. Rittenhouse, it has been com- 
mon to lament his want of v/hat is called a liberal edu- 
cation. Were education what it should be in our pub- 
lic seminaries, this would have been a misfortune ; but, 
conducted as it is at present, agreeably to the systems 
adopted in Europe in the 15th century^ I: am disj)osed 
to believe that his extensive knowledge and splendid 
character are to be ascribed chiefly to his having es- 
caped the pernicious influence of monkish learnings 
upon his mind in early life. Had the usual forms of 
a public education in the United States been imposed 
upon him, instead of revolving thro' life in a planeta- 
ry orbit, he would, probably, have consumed the force 
of his genius by fluttering around the blaze of aneven^ 
ing taper. Rittenhouse — the Philosopher, and one of 
the luminaries of the I8th century — might have 
spent his hours of study in composing syllogisms, or 
in measuring the feet of Greek and Latin poetry. 

It will be honourable to the citizens ot the United 
States, to add, that they were not insensible of the 
merits of our Philosopher,. Inventions and improve- 
ments in every ait and science v/ere frequently sub- 
mitted to his examination, and were afterwards patron- 
ised by the public, according as they were approved 
of by him. Wherever, he wentj he met with public 
respect, and private attentions. But his reputation - 
"was not confined to his native country. His name, 
was known and admired in every region of the earth,, 
where science and genius, are cultivated and respect- 
ed. 

Such were the talents, and knov/ledp;e, and such-' 
the fame of our departed President ! His virtues nov/. 
demand our tribute of praise — And here, I am less - 
at. a loss to know what to say, than vhat tu leave im^ 

O 2 said. 



29^ RITTENHOUSE. 

said. We have hitherto beheld him as a philosopher, 
soaring like the eagle, until our eyes have been daz- 
zled by his near approaches to the sun. We shall 
now contemplate him at a nearer distance, and be- 
hold him in the familiar character of aMAN, fulfilling 
his various duties in their utmost extent. If any 
thing has been said of his talents and knowledge that 
has excited attention, or kindled desires, in the young- 
er members of our Society, to pursue him in his path 
of honour, let me request them not to forsake me 
here. Come and learn, by his example, to be good 
as well as great. His virtues furnish the most sliining 
models for yom* imitation, for they were never obscur- 
ed in any situation or stage of his life, by a single 
cloud of weakness or vice. As the source of these 
virtues, whether of a public or private nature, I shall 
first mention his exalted sense of moral obligations, 
founded upon the revelation of the perfections of the 
Supreme Being. This appears from many passages 
in his oration, and from his. private letters to his 
fritinds. In his oration we find the following pious 
sentiment: " Should it please that Almighty Power 
who hath placed us in a world in which we are only 
permitted ' to look about us and to die,' to indulge us 
with existence throughout that half of eternity which 
still remains unspent, and to conduct us thro' the se- 
veral stages of his works, here (meaning in the study 
of Astronomy) is ample provision made for employ- 
ing every faculty of the mind, even allowing its pow- 
ers to be enlarged thro' an endless repetition of ages. 
Let us not complain of the vanity of this world, and 
that there is nothing in it capable of satisfying us. — 
Happy in those wants — happy in those desires, for 
ever, in succession, to be gratified-— happy in a conti- 
nual approach to the Deity. 

" I must confess, that I am not one of those san- 
guine spirits, who seeni to think, that, when the with- 
ered hand o( Death has drawn up the curtain of eter- 
nity, ail distance between the creature and the Cieat- 
or,'anJ beiween finite and Infinite, will be annihilated. . 

Eve- 



RITTENHOUSE. 299 

Every enlargernent of our faculties-^every new hap- 
piness conferred upon us — every step we advance to- 
wards the Divinity, will very probably render us 
more and more sensible of his inexhaustible stores of 
communicable bliss, and of his inaccesible perfections." 
There appears to be a natural connection between 
a knowledge of the works of Nature and just ideas of 
the Divine perfections ; and, if philosophers have not, 
m all ages, been equally devout with our President, 
it becomes us to. enquire, how far the beneficial influ- 
ence of Philosophy upon Religion may have been pre- 
vented, by their minds being pre-occupied, in early- 
life, with the fictions of ancient Poets, and the vices 
of the heathen Gods, It remains yet to be determin- 
ed, whether all the moral as well as natural attributes 
of the Deity may not be discovered in the form and 
economy of the material v orld, and whether that 
Righteousness which descended from Heaven near 
1800 years ago, may not wait for philosophical Truth 
to spring up from the earth, in order, by uniting with 
it, to command universal belief and obedience. This 
opinion, as far as it relates to one ot the moral attri- 
butes of the Deity, seems to have been admitted by 
our Philosopher, in the following elegant and pious- 
extract from a letter to one of his friends : — " Give 
me leave (says he) to mention two or three proofs of 
Infinite Goodness in the works of creation. The first 
is, possessing goodness in ourselves. Now, it is in- 
consistent with all just reasoning to suppose, that, 
there is any thing good, lovely, or praise-worthy in 
us, which is not possessed, in an infinitely higher 
degree, b^y that Being who first called us into exist- 
ence. In the next place, I reckon the exquisite and 
innocent delig-ht that many things around us are cal- 
culated to afford us. In this light,, the beauty and 
fragrance of a single rose is a better argument for 
Divine Goodness than a luxuriant field of wheat. — 
For, if we can suppose, that we were created by a 
malevolent Being with a design to torment us for his - 
amusement, he must have furnished us with the means 

of 



3C0 RITTENHOUSE. 

of subsistence, and either have made our condition 
tolerable, or not have left the means of quitting it at 
pleasure, in our own power* Such being my opini- 
ons, you will not wonder at my fondness for what Mr. 
Addison calls < the Pleasures of the Imagination.'- — 
They are all, to me, so many demonstrations of Infi- 
nite Goodness." 

But the religion of Mr. Rittenhouse was not deriv- 
ed wholly from his knowledge and admiration of the 
material world. He believed. in the Christian Reve- 
lation. — Of this he gave many proofs, not only 
in the conformity of his life to the precepts of the 
Gospel, but in his letters and conversation. I well 
recollect, in speaking to me of tlie truth and excel- 
lency of the Christian religion, he mentioned, as an 
evidence of its Divine origin, that the miracles of our 
Saviour dilfcred from all other miracles, in being en- 
tirely of a kind and benevolent nature. It is no small 
triumph to the friends of Revelation to observe, in 
this age of Infidelity, that oar religion has been-ad- 
mitted, and even defended, by men of the most exalt- 
ed understanding, and of the strongest reasoning 
powers. The single testimony of David Rittenhouse 
in its favour, outweighs the declamations of whole na« 
tions against it. 

As the natural effect of his belief ni the. relation of 
the wliole human race to each other, in a common 
Father and Redeemer, he embraced the whole family 
of mankind in the arms of his benevolence. But the 
philanthropy of Mr. Rittenhouse did not consist sim- 
ply in wishes for the happiness of mankind. He re- 
duced this divine principle to practice by a series of 
faithful and disinterested services to that part of his 
fellow-creatures, to which the usefulness of good men 
is chiefly confined. His country — his beloved coun- 
try, was t)ie object of the strongest alfections of his 
lieart. For her he thought-^for her he laboured — and, 
for her,in the hours of her difficulties and dangers, he 
wept in every stage of the AiTierican Revolution. — - 
^utriotbpf irre, you will acquit me of cxaggeratioa 

here, 



RITTENHOUSE. 301 

Itere, for you feel, in the recollection of what passed 
in your own bosoms, a witness of the truth of each 
of these assertions. The year of the Declaration of 
Independence, which changed our Royal governments 
into Republics, produced no change in his political 
principles, for he had been educated a Republican by 
his father. 1 can never forget the pleasure with which 
he avowed his early, but secret, attachment to an elec- 
tive and representative form of governmeut. Often 
have I heard him, above 20 years ago, predict the 
immense encrease of talents and knowledge which has 
been produced by the strength and activity that have 
been infused into the American mind by our republi- 
can Constitutions. Often, likewise, at the same re- 
mote period of time, have I heard him anticipate, 
with delight, the effects of our Revolution, in sowing 
the seeds of a new order of things in other parts of 
the world. He believed political, as well as moral e- 
vil, to be intruders into the society of man — that ge- 
neral happiness was the original design and ultimate 
end of the Divme government — and that a time would 
come, when every part of our globe would echo back 
the heavenly proclamation of " universal peace oa 
c^rth, and good Avill to man." 

Let it not be said, that he departed from the duties 
of a Philosopher, by devoting a part of his time and 
talents to the safety and happiness of his Country. It 
belongs to Monarchies, to limit the business of go- 
vernment to a " privileged order of men," and it is 
from the remains of a monarchical spirit in our coun- 
try, that we complain when clergymen, physicians, 
philosophers, and mechanics, take an active part in 
civil affairs. The obligations of Patriotism are as u* 
niversal and binding, as those of justice and benevo- 
lence, and the virtuous propensities of the humai\ 
heart areas much resisted by every individual who ne- 
glects the business of his country, as they are by the 
e,\tinction of the domestic atfections in a cell, Man 
was made for a Republic, and a Republic was made 
fqr INliui, otiierwise Divine power and goodness have 

beca 



302 RITTENHOUSE. 

been wasted, in the creation and gift of his public af- 
fections. — Our Philosopher adopted this truth from 
the evidence of his feelings, in common with the rest 
of mankind, but it was strongly reinforced in his 
mind liy numerous analogies of nature. How was it 
possible for him to contemplate light and air as the 
common and equal portions of every man, and not ac- 
knowledge that the goodness of Heaven intended li- 
berty to be distributed in the same manner among the 
whole human race ?-^Or how could he behold the 
beauty and harmony of the universe, as the result of 
universal and mutual dependance, and not admit that 
Heaven intended rulers;_to be dependant upon those, 
for whose benefit alone, all government should exist ; 
to suppose the contrary,, would be to deny unity and 
s^ystem in the plans of the great Creator of all things. 

I shall make no apology for those sentiments. They 
are not foreign to the solemnity of this discourse. Had 
I said less of the political principles and conduct of 
Gur enlightened President, hundreds and thousands 
of my fellow-citizens would have accused me of an act 
of treachery to his memory. May the time never 
come, in which tlie praises of our republican govern- 
ments shall not be acceptable to the ears of an Ame- 
rican audience I 

In the more limited circles of private life, Mr. 
Rittenhouse commanded esteem and all'ection. As 
a neighbour he was kind and charitable. His sym- 
pathy extended in a certain degree to distress of every 
kind, but it was excited with the most force, and the 
kindest etfects to the weakness, pain, and poverty of 
old age. — As a friend he was sincere, ardent, and 
disinterested — As a companion^ he instructed upon 
all subjects. To his happy com >iiunicutive disposition, 
1 beg leave to express my obligations in this public 
manner. I can truly say, after an acquaintance Avith 
him for six-and-twenty years, that 1 never went into 
his company, without learning something. With 
pleasure have I looked beyond my present labours to 
u time, when his society should constitute one of the 

prin- 



IIITTEN HOUSE. 303 

principal enjoyments of the evening of my life. — Bu^ 
alas, that time so often anticipated, and so delightful 
in prospect — will never come. 

I hope it will not be thouglit that I tread too close- 
ly upon his footsteps, when I presume to lift the latch 
of his door, and to exhibit him in the domestic rela- 
tions of a husband and father. It was the practice of 
philosophers of former ages, to pass their lives in 
their closets, and to maintain a formal and distant in- 
tercourse with their families ; but our Philosopher 
was a stranger to pride and imposture in every thing. 
His family constituted his chief society, and the most 
intimate circle of his friends. When the declining 
state of his health rendered the solitude of his study 
less agreeable than in former years, he passed whole 
evenings in reading or conversing with his wife and 
daughters. Happy family I so much and so long 
blessed with such a head ! and happier, still, to have 
possessed dispositions and knowledge to discern and 
love his exalted character, and to enjoy his instructing 
conversation ! — Thus Sir Thomas More lived with 
his accomplished wife and daughters; — thus Cicero 
educated his beloved Tullia ; — and in this way only, 
can the female sex be elevated to that dignity and use- 
fulness in society, for which they were formed, and 
by which, from their influence upon manners, a new 
era would be created in the history of mankind. 

The house, and manner of living of our President;^ 
exliibited the taste of a Philosopher, the simplicity of 
a Republican, and the temper of a Christian.* He 
was independent, and contented with an estate, small 
in the estimation of Ambition aTid Avarice, but amply 
suited to all his wants and desires. He held the oifice 
of Treasurer of Pennsylvania, by an annual and ima- 
nimous vote of the Legislature, between the years 
1777 and 1789. During this period, he declined pur- 
chasing the smallest portion of the public debt of the 
State, thereby manifesting a delicacy of integrity, 
which is known and felt only by pure and elevated- 
,minds. Ji^ 

* On the fubjea of ReMgion, Dr. Price was his favourite, 
He read one of his fermons tlie evening before lie died. 



5©-4 RITTENHOUSE* 

In the year 1792, he was persuaded to accept of 
the office of Director of the Mint of the United States. 
His want of health oblig-ed him to resign it in 1795. 
Here his conduct was likewise above suspicion, for I 
have been informed by his colleague in office, that, in 
several instances, h€ paid for work done at the Mint 
out of his salary, where he thought the charges for it 
would be deemed extravagant by the United States. 

His economy extended to a wise and profitable use 
of his time. No man ever found him unemployed. 
As an apology for detaining a friend a few minutes, 
while he arranged some papers he had been examin- 
ing, he said, " that he once thought health the great- 
est blessing in the world ; but that he now tho't there 
was one thing of much greater value, and that was 
time." The propriety of tliis remark will appear 
when we consider, that Providence, so liberal in other 
gifts, bestows this in a sparing manner. He never 
gives a second moment, until he has withdrawn the 
lirst, and still reserves the third in his own hand. 

Here I expected to have finished the detail of his 
•virtues ; but, in the neighboiu'hood of that galaxy cre^ 
ated by their connected lustre, I behold a virtue of m- 
estimable value, tv/inkling like a rare and solitary 
star — It is, his superlative modesty.— This heaven- 
born virtue was so conspicuous in every part of his 
conduct, that he appeared not so much to- conceal, as 
to be ignorant of his superiority as a Philosopher and 
a Man over the greatest part of his fellow-creatures. 

His constitution was naturally feeble, but it was 
rendered still more so, by sedentary labour and mid- 
night studies. He was afflicted many years with a 
weak breast, which upon unusual exertions of body or 
mind, or sudden changes in the weather, became tlie 
seat of a painful and harrassing disorder. This con- 
stisutional infirmity was not without its uses. It con- 
tributed mucli to the perfection of his virtue, by pro- 
ducing habitual patience and resignation to the will of 
Heaven, and a constant eye to the hour of his disso- 
Ivition. It wa^ a window through which he often look- 
ed.. 



RITTENHOUSE. 305 

ed with pleasure towards a place of existence, where 
from the encrease and perfection of his intuitive facul- 
ties, he would probably acquire more knowledge in 
an hour than he had acquired in his whole life, by 
the slow operations of reason ; and where, from the 
greater magnitude and extent of the objects of his 
contemplation, his native glolie would appear like his 
cradle, and all the events of time like the amuse- 
ments of his infant years. 

On the 26th of June, of the present year, the long 
expected messenger of death disclosed his commis- 
sion. In his last illness, which was acute and short, 
he retained the usual patience and benevolence of his 
temper. Upon, being told that some of his friends 
had called at his door to enquire how he was, he ask- 
ed, why they were not invited into his chamber to sec 
him ? — " Because (said his wife) you are too weak to 
speak to them." — " Yes (said he) that is true, but I 
could still have squeezed their hands.'* — Thus with a 
heart overflowing with love to his family, friends, 
country, and to the whole world he peacefully resign- 
ed his spirit into the hands of his God. Let the day 
of his death be recorded in the annals of our society, 
and let its annual return be marked with some public 
act, which shall characterise his services and our 
grief, and thereby animate us and our successors to 
imitate his illustrious example. 

It has been the fashion of late years, to say of per- 
sons who had been distinguished in life, when they 
left the world in a state of ind^H'erence to every thing, 
and believing and hoping in nothing, that they died 
like philosophers. Very different was the latter end of 
our excellent President. He died like a Christian, 
interested in the welfare of all around him — believing 
in a life to come, and hoping for happiness from eve- 
ry attribute of the Deity. 

Agreeably to his request, his body was interred in 
his observatory near his dwelling house, in the pre- 
sence of anumerous concourse of his fellow citizens. It 
was. natural for him in the near prospect of appearing 

iu 



3o6 RIXTENHOUSE. 

m the presence of his Maker, to feel an attachment 
to that spot in which he had cultivated a knowledge of 
his perfections, and held communion with him thro* 
the medium of his works. Hereafter it sliall become 
one of the objects of curiosity in our city. Thither 
shall the philosophers of future ages resort to do ho- 
mage to his tomb, and the children yet unborn, shall 
point to the dome which covers it, and exuitingly say, 
" there lies our Rittenhouse." 



GEORGE WASHINGTON, 
Commander in Chief of the American Armies 

IN the history of Man, we contemplate, with parti- 
cular satisfaction, those legislators, heroes, and 
philosophers, whose wisdom, valour, and virtue have 
contributed to the happiness of the human species.— 
We trace the luminous progress of those excellent be- 
ings with secret complacency ; our emulation is rous- 
edy while we behold them steadily pursue the path of 
rectitude, in deHance of every obstruction ; we rejoice 
that we are of the same species, and thus, Self-love 
becomes the hand-maid of Virtue. 

The authentic pages of Biography unite the most 
grateful amusement with instruction. Truth supports 
the dignity of the Historic Muse, who will not admit 
of either fulsome panegyric, or invidious censure, — 
She describes her hero with genuine simplicity-— 
mentions his frailties, his characteristic peculiarities, 
and his shining qualities. — In short, she gives a faith- 
ful and lively portrait of the man, investigates the la- 
tent motives of his actions, and celebrates those vir- 
tues wh.ich have raised him to an enviable pre-emi- 
nence above his cotemporaries. 

We sympathize hi the sufferings, and participate 
the trimiiphs of those illustrious men who stand 
" Majellic 'mid the monuments of Time;" 

and the approbation of excellence in others, naturally 
leads the mind to imitate the object of its adoration. 

Among 



WASHINGTON 307 

Among those patriots who have a chiim to our ve- 
neration, George Washington appears in a conspicu- 
ous place in the first rank. The ancestors of this 
extraordinary man, in the year 1657, emigrated from 
England to America, and settled in the colony of Vir- 
ginia ; here, by unremitting industry, they became 
opulent and respectable, and gave their name to the 
parish of Washington, in Westmoieland county.— 
George Washington, the hero of the followir g histo- 
ry, was the fruit of a second marriage, and was born 
in the settlement of Chotank, in the above-mentioned 
county, on the 11th of February, 1732. 

The extensive settlement of Chotank was originally 
put-chased by the Washington family ; the extreme 
fertility of the soil induced those settlers to cultivate 
tobacco in several plantations ; for this purpose, they 
purchased a number of negro slaves, and, consequent- 
ly, population was rapidly increased. At the time 
eur hero was born, all the planters throughout this ex- 
tensive settlement were his relations— hence, his 
youthful years glided away in all the pleasing gaiety 
of social friendship. He i-eceived a private education, 
and was initiated in the elements of Religion, INIorali- 
ty, and Science by a private tutor ; and, from the te- 
nor of his actions, it is manifest, that uncommon 
pains were taken to cherish the best propensities of 
human nature in his heart. 

In the 10th year of his age, he had the misfortune 
to lose an excellent fether, who died in 1742, and the 
patrimonial estate devolved to an elder brother. This 
young gentleman had been an officer in the Colonial 
troops sent in the expedition against Carthagena. On 
his return, he called the family mansion Mount V^er- 
non, in honour o£ the British Admiral, and destined 
his brother George to serve in the navy. 

Accordingly, in his 15th year, our hero was enter- 
ed as a midshipman, en board a British frigate, sta- 
tioned on the coas: of Virginia. He prepared to cm- ' 
baik. With all the alacrity of youth; but his nautical 
career was stupped by the intcrpo^tion of maternal 

love. 



s 



308 WASHINGTON. 

Iove# Ever obedient to an affectionate mother, yoiin_ 
Washington relinquished his desire of going to sea ; 
the energies of his mind were to be exerted on a more 
stable element. 

As his patrimonial estate was by no means consi- 
derable, his youth was employed ia useful industry ; 
and, in the practice of his profession as a surveyor, 
he had an opportunity of acquiring that information 
respecting vacant lands, and of forming those opinions 
concerning their future value, which, afterwards, great- 
ly contributed to the increase of his private fortune. 

The first proof that he gave of his propensity to 
arms was in the year 1751, when the office nf Adju- 
tant-General of the Virginia militia became vacant by 
the death of his brother, and Mount Vernon, together 
with a large estate, came into his possession. At 
this time, the extensive population of the colony made 
it expedient to form the militia corps into 3 divisions, 
and Washington, in his 20th year, was appointed Ma- 
jor. He attended to his duty, as an officer, with ex- 
emplary propriety and vigilance— was indefatigable in 
the discipline of the troops — and generally beloved, 
both by his brother officers and the private men, for 
his mildness and generosity. 

In the ye^r 1753, the incroachments of the French 
upon the western boundaries of the British Colonies 
excited a general alarm in Virginia, insomuch that 
Governor Dinwiddie deputed Washington to ascertain 
the truth of those rumours: he was also empowered 
to enter into a treaty with the Indians, and remonstrate 
with the French on the injustice of their proceedings. 
On his arrival at the back settlements, he found the 
Coloiiists in a very unpleasant situation, from the de- 
predations of the Indians, who were incessantly insti- 
gated by the French to the commission of new ag- 
gressions. He found that the French themselves had 
also committed several outrages against the defence- 
less settlers ; nay, that they had proceeded so far as 
to establish posts within the boundaries of Virginia. 
Washington strongly remonstrated against those acts. 

of 



WASHINGTON. 309 

of hostility, and warned the French to desist fiom 
their incursions. On his return, his report to the Go- 
vernor was published, and it evinced that he peribrni- 
ed this honourable mission with great prudence. 

The repeated inroads of the French and Indians on 
the frontiers of Vin^inia, made it necessary to encrea^€ 
the military establishment ; and early in the spring of 
1754, anew regiment was raised, of which Professor 
Fry, of the college, was appointed colwiel, and Wash- 
ington lieutenant-colonel, Mr. Fry died soon after 
the regiment was embodied, and was succeeded by 
our hero, who paid unremitting attention to the dis- 
cipline of this new corps. He established magizines 
of provision and ammunition, and opened the roads 
to the frontiers in order pre-occupy an important post 
at the confluence of the Monongahela and Alleghany 
rivers. His regiment was to have been reinforced by 
a detachment from the southern colonies, and a corps 
of provincials from North Carolina and Maryland ; but 
impelled by the urgency of the occasion, he advanced 
vathout the expected succours in the month of May. 
The troops proceeded by forced marches towards the 
defile, and their commander dispatched two scouts to 
reconnoitre ; but though his rapid march was facilita- 
ted by the fine weather, yet, when he ascended the 
Laurel Hills, fifty miles distant from the place of des- 
tmation, he was met by his scouts, who returned with 
intelligence, that the enemy v/ere in possession of the 
post, had built a fort, and stationed a large garrison 
there. V»^ashington now held a council of war with 
the other olficers, but while they were deliberating a 
detachment of the 1' rench came in sight, and obliged 
them to retreat to a savannah called the Green Mea- 
dows. 

The fortitude of Washington was put to a severe 
test on tills occasion : he retired with the troops to an 
eminence in the savannah, and about noon began to e- 
rect a small fortification. He called his temporary 
defence Fort Necessity, and encouraged the regiment 
both by his voice and example, to raise a redoubt on 

wJiich 



310 WASHINGTOxN. 

which they planted two field pieces. They surround- 
ed the camp with an entrenchment in wliich they toil- 
ed with unremittini^ exertions during the subsequent 
night. Thus fortined, they prepared to resist the 
meditated attack of the enemy ; and about sunrise, on 
the following mornnig, were joined by Capt. M'Kay, 
^vith a company of regulars. The little army now 
amounted to about 400 men. On the approach of the 
advanced guard of the French, the Americans sallied 
forth, attacked and defeated them ; but the main body 
of the enemy, amounting to 1500 men, compelled 
them to retire to the intrenchment. The camp was 
now closely invested, and the Americans suffered se- 
verely from the grape shot of the enemy, and the In- 
dian riflemen. Washington however, defended the 
works with such skill and bravery, that the besiegers 
were unable to force the intrenchments. At length 
after a conflict of ten hours, in which 150 of the A- 
mericanswere killed and wounded, they were obliged 
to capitulate. They were permitted to march out with 
the honours of war, and lay down their arms in front 
of the French lines ; but they were afterwards plun- 
dered by the hostile Indians, during their return to 
Virginia. 

This defeat excited a strong emotion of sorrow in 
the breasts of their countrymen ; and tho' sevei'al 
persons censured the precipitance of Washington in 
this affair, yet the general conviction of his integrity 
prevented those murmurs from doing him any injury 
Indeed, his conduct was liable to censure ; he ought 
to have waited for the necessary reinforcements, a 
junction with whom would probably have crowned his 
enterprize with success liis inexperience and the 
active ardor of a youthful mind, may afford some 
palliation of his imprudence ; but his rashness in 
this instance was so ditlerent from his subsequent 
prudence, that probably this inauspicious commence- 
ment of his military career, was the origin of tlie 
the circumspection and vigilance which afterwards 
marked his conduct in a successful defensive war. 

Let 



WASHINGTON! 311 

Let us for a moment enquire into the cause of tliese- 
unprovoked hostilities of the French against the Bri- 
tish colonies. As France, for many centuries had 
been the professed rival of England, she beheld the 
rapid prosperity of these colonies, and the consequent 
aggrandizement of the mother country, with envious 
apprehension. The French government had made 
settlements in North America, and divided this vast 
continent into two provinces ; the northern was called 
Canada, and the southern Louisiana. But as the 
principal part of this territory was comparatively bar- 
ren and uncultivated, the French formed the ambiti- 
ous project of obtaining* possession of the British set- 
tlements by force. P'or this purpose they erected a- 
chain of forts which extended throughout an immense 
tract of country. These fortifications Vv'ere garrison- 
ed by troops well supplied by military stores ; but the 
circumjacent regions were totally uninhabited, ex- 
cept by hunting parties of the wandering Indians. 

The French engaged these savages in their inter- 
est, by supplying them with arms and ammunition in 
exchange for rich furs. Thus they obtained the alli- 
ance of a formidable and enterprizing race, who natu- 
rally hated the British colonists, whom they consider- 
ed as the original invaders of their country. 

In the summer of 1754, the French having built se- 
veral forts within the boundaries of the British set- 
tlements, an army of veterans was sent from France 
to support those unjustifiable encroachments. We 
have already mentioned their victory over the troops 
commanded by Washington, and that they had erect- 
ed a fort at an advantageous post, which it had been 
his determmation to secure. They named this for- 
tress DuQuesne, in which they stationed a strong garri- 
son well provided with military stores. These hostile 
measures on the part of France, excited the indignation 
of the English Government, and orders v/ere issued to 
make general reprisals in Europe and America. 

In the year 1755, General Braddock was sent to 
America, at the head of two veteran regiments from 

Ire- 



31 z WASHINGTON. 

Ireland, to reduce the forts on the Ohio. On his af« 
rival, he was joined by the independent and provincial 
corps of America: but when tlie army was ready to 
march aj^ainst the enemy, the want of wag.8;ons for the 
conveyance of stores, had almost proved an insur- 
iiFiountabie obstacle to the expedition. In this emer- 
gency a putrotic American stepped forward and re- 
moved the ditiiculty ; this Avas the celebrated Benja- 
min Fi'anklin, whose extraordinary talents had alrea- 
dy contributed to the ditlusion of knowledge and hap- 
piness. This benign philosopher exerted his influ- 
ence so efTectually with his countrymen, that, in a 
short time, he collected 150 waggons, which proved 
an ample supply for the army. 

As in consequence of a military regulation, " no 
officer who did not derive his commission from the 
King could command one who did," Washington re- 
signed ; but strongly attached to a military life, and 
emulous to defend his country with distinguished 
zeal, he voluntarily served under G en. Braddock as an 
extra aid-de-camp. That General m^arched against 
Fort Du Quesne ; but soon after he crossed the river 
Monongahela, the van division of his army was attack- 
ed by an ambuscade of French and Indians, and to- 
tally defeated. The thickness of the woods prevent- 
ed both the European and provincial troops from be- 
ing able to defend themselves with effect; they could 
neither keep their ranks, nor charge the enemy with 
the bayonet, while the Indians, who were expert at 
bush-fighting, and were widely scattered, fired at them 
in all directions from behind the trees, where they 
were concealed from their foes, and took a fatal aim. 
Washington had cautioned Gen. Braddock in vain ; 
his ardent desire of conquest made him deaf to the 
voice of prudence; he saw his error when too late, 
and bravely perished in his endeavours to save the di- 
vision fron* destruction. The gallant but unfortunate 
general had four horses shot under him before he was 
slain, and ahnost every oliicer whose duty obliged him 
to be on horseback, was eitlier killed or wounded except 

Wash- 



WASHINGTON. 313 

ington. Amid the carnage, the presence of inind, 
and abilities of our hero, were conspicuous ; he ral- 
lied the troops, and, at the head of a corps of p;rena- 
diers, covered the retreat of the division, and secured 
their retreat over the ford of Monongahela. 

Anxious for the preservation of tlie tro-'i)ps, and un- 
mindful of the fatigues he hnd undergone, during a 
sultry day in which he had scarcely a moment of rest, 
he hastened to concerc measures with Colonel Dunbar, 
who commanded the rear division, which had not 
been engaged. Neither the wilderness thro' which 
he was obliged to pass, the innumerable dangers that 
surrounded him in his progress, nor his exiiausted 
state could prevent him from pursuing the line of his 
duty. He travelled during the night accompanied by 
two guides, and reached the British camp in safety. 
Thus his perseverance and wisdom saved the residue 
of the troops. Colonel Dunbar now assumed the 
chief command ; he with considerable difticulty effect- 
ed a retreat, but was obliged to destroy his baggage 
to prevent it from falling into the hands of the enemy. 
Washington received the most flattering marks of 
public approbation ; but his best reward was the con- 
sciousness of his own integrity. 

Soon after this transaction, the regulation of rank, 
which had justly beeii considered as a grievance by 
the colonial oHicers, was changed in consequence of 
a spirited remonstrance of Washington ; and the Go- 
vernor of "V irginia rev/arded this brave otficer with 
the command of all the troops of that colony. The 
natural energy of his mind was now called into action ; 
and his thoughts were continually employed in form- 
ing new plans for the protection of the frontiers. 

We may form some idea of his increaseing popu- 
larity, and the high estimation in which iie was held 
by his countrymen, from the follov/ing curious pre- 
diction. It was published in the notes of a sermon 
preached by the Samuel Davies, on the 17th of Au- 
gust, 1755, to Capt. Overton's independent company 
of Volunteers, raised in Planover county, Virpinia. 

P « As 



314 WASHINGTON. 

** As a remarkable instance of patriotism, I may point 
out that heroic youth Colonel Washington, whom I 
cannot but hope Providence has hitherto preserved in 
so signal a manner, for some important service to his 
country." What renders this prophecy the more 
worthy of notice, is its having been delivered twenty 
years prior to the commencement of the war which 
terminated in American independence. 

In the year 1758, Washington commanded the van 
brigade of the army under Gen. Forbes, and distin- 
guished himself by the capture of Fort du Quesne. 
During this successful campaign, he acquired a know- 
ledge of tactics. His frequent skirmishes with the 
French and Jndicvns, in the woody regions along the 
frontiers taught him vigilance and circumspection, and 
roused that spirit of enterprise, which is ever ready 
to seize the crisis that leads to victory. The troops 
under his command were gradually inured in that 
most difficult kind of warfare called bush-fighting, 
while the activity of theFrench and ferocity of the In- 
dians were overcome by his superior valour. After 
the enemy had been defeated in several battles, and 
compelled to retreat far beyond the Colonial bounda- 
ries, General Forbes left a sufficient garrison in the 
different forts which he had captured along the banks 
of the Ohio, and returned with the army into winter 
quarters. 

In the course of this decisive campaign, which re- 
stored the tranquillity and security of the middle colo- 
nies, Washington had suffered many hardships which 
impaired his health. He w^as afflicted with an invete- 
rate pulmonary complaint, and extremely debilitated, 
insomuch that in the year of 1759, he resigned his 
commission and retired to Mount Vernon. The Vir- 
ginia line expressed their high sense of his merit, by 
an affectionate address on this occasion ; and his an- 
swer was marked with that modesty and magnanimity 
which were the prominent traits of his mind. 

By 



WASHINGTON. 315 

By a due attention to regimen, in the quiet bowers 
of Mount Vernon, he gradually recovered from his in- 
disposition. But, as during the tedious period of his 
convalescence, the British arms had been victorious,, 
his country had no more occasion for the exertion of 
his military talents. In the year 1761, he married 
a young widow, whose maiden name was Dan- 
dridge. She was descended from a reputable family, 
and two of her brothers were officers in the British 
navy. This lady was the widow of Colonel Custis, 
who had left her sole executrix to his extensive pos« 
sessions, and guardian to his two children. The u- 
nion of Washington with this accomplished woman * 
was productive of their mutual felicity ; and as he in- 
cessantly pursued agricultural improvements, his taste 
embellished and enriched the fertile fields around 
Mount Vernon. Meanwhile he was appointed a ma- 
gistrate, a member of the assembly of the state, and 
a judge of the court. These honourable avocations 
kept the pov»?ers of his mind in a state of activity ; he 
attended to his civil duties with exemplary propriety, 
and gave a convincing proof, that the simplicity of 
the Farmer is homogeneal with tlie dignified views 
of the Senator. 

But the time approached, in which Washington was 
to relinquish those honourable civil avocations, and 
one of the most remarkable events recorded in history 
obliged him to act a conspicuous part on the great 
theatre of the world. The American Revolution o- 
riginated in the errors of a few British politicians, and 
the joint exertions of a number of public spirited men 
among the Colonists, who incited their countrymen 
to resist parliamentaiy taxation. 

In March 1764, a bill passed in the British Parlia- 
ment, laying heavy duties on all articles imported in- 
to the Colonies from the French and other islands in 
the West Indies, and ordering these duties to be paid 
in specie into the Exchequer of Creat Britain. In 

the 
* Mrs. Wafhington was born in the year 1732 



3i6 WASHINGTON. 

the same session, another bill was formed, to restrain 
the currency of paper-money in the Colonies. 

These acts excited the surprize and displeasure of 
the North Americans. They sent warm and energe- 
tic remonstrances to the Mother-country, and laid eve- 
ry argument before the Ministry that ingenuity could 
suggest, but in vain. As they had hitherto furnished 
their contingent in men and money, by the authority 
of their Representatives in. the Colonial Assemblies, 
they asserted, that, not being represented in the Brit- 
ish Parliament, it could have no right to ta5i them — = 
Finding, however, that all their arguments were inef- 
fectual to remove their grievances, they formed asso- 
ciations to prevent the use of British manufactures, 
till they should obtain redress. 

The, animosity of the Colonists was farther increas- 
ed, by the advice v/hich they received, thattheBritish 
Ministry had it in comtemplation to establish stamp- 
duties in America, similar to those in Great Britain. 

The General Assembly of Virginia was the first 
that openly and formally declared against the right of 
Britain to lay taxes on America. Of this Assembly 
Washington was a member ; he most zealously op- 
posed what he considered an encroachment on the li- 
berties of his countrymen ; and the example of this 
legislative body was followed by those of the other co- 
lonies. 

In June, 1765, the Assembly of Massachusetts, 
-from the conviction of the expediency of a Continen- 
tal Congress, passed a resolution in favour of that 
measure, and sent circular letters to the several As- 
sembhes, requesting their concurrence. According- 
ly, a deputation Irom 10 of the Colonies met at New- 
York, and this was the first Congress held in North 
America. 

In consequence of a petition from this Congress to 
the King and both Houses of Parliament, the stamp- 
act v^as repealed, to the universal joy of the Colonists, 
and the general satisfaction of the English, whose 
, manufacture 3 had- suftered a considerable depression, 

in 



WASHINGTON. - 317 

hi conseqwence of the American associations against 
their importation. 

But, the Parliament, by repealing this obnoxious 
act, did not rehnquish the idea of their riglit to tax 
the Colonies ; and the bill for laying a duty on tea, 
paper, painters' colours, and glass, was passed, and 
sent to America, in 1768, This act occasioned new 
discontents in the Colonies, especially at Boston ; and 
tho' Parliament thought proper, in 1770, to take off 
those duties, except 3d. a pound on tea, yet even this 
trifling impost kept alive the jealousy of the ColonistSj 
''vho denied the supremacy of the British Legislature- 
The troops quartered in Boston was another cause of 
offence to the inhabitants, and, on all occasions, they 
manifested an inchnatlon to quarrel with men whom, 
they considered inimical to their liberties. 

The animosity of the people of that Colony against 
their Governor, Hutchinson, was increased by the dis- 
covery that he had written letters to people in power 
in England, which contained a misrepresentation of 
the state of public affairs, and recommended coer- 
cive measures, in order to secure the obedience of the 
province. These letters fell into the hands of Dr. 
Franklin, Agent of the province, who transmitted 
them to Boston. The Assembly passed a petition to 
his Majesty, by a large majority, in which they de- 
clared their Governor and Lieutenant-Governor ene- 
mies to the Colonies, and prayed for their dismission 
from office. This petition was not only rejected, but 
declared to be groundless and scandalous. 

About this time. Dr. FrtUiklin was dismissed from 
the office of Deputy Postmaster-General of America, 
which he held under the Crown^ But it was not 
merely by his transmission of the letters above-men- 
tioned that he had offended the British Ministry ; he 
had written two pieces in favour of America, which 
excited the public attention on both sides of the At- 
lantic. The one was entitled, " An Edict from the 
King of Prussia for taxing the inhabitants of Great 
Britain, as descendants of emigrants from his domi- 
nions 



Sia WASHINGTON. 

nions ;" and the other, « Rules for reducing a great 
Empire to a small one." These essays were both 
written with his peculiar simplicity of style, and a- 
foounded with the most poignant satire. 

The disputes between Great Britain and her Colo- 
nies had now existed above ten yeaars, with intervals 
of tranquillity. The reservation of the duty on tea, 
tlie stationing a standing array in Massachusetts, the 
continuance of a Board of Commissioners in Boston, 
and the appointing the Governors and Judges of the 
province, independent of the people, were the causes 
of that irritation which pervaded all ranks of the com- 
niunitv. 

In the year 1773, the American controversy was re- 
commeced, in consequence of tea being sent to the 
Colonies by the East India Company. The Ameri- 
cans now i>erceived that the tax was likely to be en- 
forced, and were determined to oppose the revenue 
system of the British Parliament. They considered 
this attempt of the East India Company as an indirect 
mode of taxation, and took measures to prevent the 
landing of the teas. One universal spirit of opposi- 
tion animated the Colonists from New Hampshire to 
Georgia. The province of Massachusetts distinguish- 
ed itself by the most violent and decisive proceedings. 
Three ships from England laden with tea, lay in the 
harbour of Boston ; and the townsmen resolved to de- 
stroy it rather than suffer it to be landed. For this 
purpose a number of men disguised like Indians, on 
the i8th of Dec. 1773, entered the ships and threw 
overboard 342 chests of tea, being the whole of their 
cargoes. 

The Ministry now resolved to enforce their autho- 
rity, and as Boston had been the principal scene of 
outrage, it was determined to punish that town in an 
exemplary manner. On the 25th of March 1774, an 
act was passed called the Boston Port Bill, " to disr 
continue the landing, and discharging, lading, and 
shipping of goods, wares, and merchandizes at the 
town of Boston, or within the hai'bour." 

The 



WASHINGTON. 3^9 

The news of this bill was received by the Bostoni- 
ans with the most extravagant tokens of resentment^ 
and during the ferment their new governor, General 
Gage, arrived from England. This gentleman had 
been appointed on account of his being an officer of 
reputation, and a man esteemed by the Americans, 
among whom he had resided many years. The first 
official act of his government was the removal of the 
assembly to Salem, a town seventeen miles distant. 

Virginia again took the lead in a public avowal of 
its sentiments. The first day of June had been ap- 
pointed for the Boston Port Act to take place, and on 
that day the General Assembly of Virginia enjoined 
a public supplication to Heaven. The stile of this in- 
junction was remarkable : the people were directed 
" to beseech the Deity to give them one heart and 
one mind, firmly to oppose every invasion of the A- 
merican Rights." The Assembly of Virginia recom- 
mended also to the colonies, to appoint a Congress of 
Delegates to deliberate on_the critical state of their 
aH'airs. 

Meanwhile the Bostonians were not inactive. They 
framed an agreement, which they called a solemn 
League andCovenant, by which the subscribers engag- 
ed in the most religious manner, " to discontinue all 
commercial intercourse with Great Britain, after the 
expiration of ihe month of August, till the late ob- 
noxious acts were repealed, and the colony re-pos- 
sessed of its charter." Resolutions of a similar na- 
ture were entered into by the other provinces ; and 
when General Gage attempted to counteract the co- 
venant by a proclamation, the Americans retorted, 
by insisting, that the law allowed subjects to associate 
in order to obtain redress of their grievances. 

In the month of Sept. 1774, the General Congress 
of all the Colonies met at Philadelphia. That body 
consisted of fifiy-one delegates, chosen by the repre- 
sentatives of each province. 

The first act of the Continental Congress, was their 
approbation of the conduct of the Bostonians, and an 

ex- 



3ZQ: WASHINGTON. 

exhortation to them to persevere in their opposition to 
governjnent, till the restoration of their charter. — 
They avowed their allegiance to his Majesty, and 
drew up a petition, in which they intreatcd him to 
grant them peace, liberty, and safety. After several 
resolutions tending to promote unanimity in the pro- 
vinces, and after having resolved that another Con- 
gress should meet in Philadelphia on the 10th of May 
following if their grievances should not be redressed, 
they recommended to the people the speedy nomina- 
tion of new delegates, and then separated. 

Meanwhile reinforcements of British troops arrived 
at Boston, which increased the general disaffection to 
such a degree, that the people were ready to rise at a 
moment's warning. The Colonists now began seri- 
ously to prepare for war ; embodied and trained their 
miltia; and to render themselves independent of fo- 
reigners for the supply of military stores, they erect- 
ed mills and manufactories for gunpowder both in 
Philadelphia and Vii'gimao 

These hostile preparations . induced General Gage 
to fortify the neck of land which joins the town of 
Boston to the continent. But tho' this measure of se- 
curity was justifiable on the principle of self defence, 
the Americans remonstrated against it with the great- 
est vehemence. Instead of paying any attention to 
these invectives, theGeneral seized the provincial am- 
muni ion and military stores at Cambridge and Char- 
lestovv'n. This act of hostility excited the popular 
rage to such a degree, that it was with the utmost dif- 
ficulty the inhabitants of Massachusetts could be re- 
strained from marching to Boston to attack the troops. 

It was now but too evident, that the ensuing 
spring would be the commencement of a war of which 
even the most resolute dreaded the consequences. 
The utmost diligence, however, was used by the colo- 
nists to be provided against any attack of the British 
army. A list of the men able to bear arms was made 
out in each province, and the assemblies were animat- 
ed with the most lively hopes on finding that two- 
thirds 



WASHINGTON. 321 

thiixis of the men who had served in the former war, 
were alive, and zealous in the cause. 

Washington was among the most active in raising 
troops. His well known intrepidity and generosity 
obtained him a numerous corps of volunteers ; he 
was appointed their commander, and soon perfected 
their discipline. He had also been elected a delegate 
from Virginia to the General Congress, and exerted 
all his influence to encoui'age a decisive opposition to 
British taxaticm. 

The awful moment nov/ approached which was to 
involve Great Britain and her Colonies in all the hor- 
rors of a civil war. In February, 1775, the Provin- 
cial Congress of Massachussetts met at Cambridge. 
Several military institutions for the protection of the 
province were enacted ; among the most remarkable 
of w'hich was the minutemeru A number of the most 
active and expert of the New England militia were 
selected, who were obhged to hold themselves in rea- 
diness to obey the first summons of their officers; 
and indeed their subsequent vigilance and intrepidity, 
fully entitled them to the above-mentioned appellation. 

We pass over the battles of Lexington and Bunk- 
er's-hill (already related in General Putnam's life) and 
come to the subject of our present memoir. Wash- 
ington who was a delegate from Virginia, was by 
their unanimous vote, appointed to beGeneral in Chief- 
of all the American forces. They also voted him as 
ample a salary as was in their power to bestow, but . 
he generously declined all pecuniary emoluments. — 
His reply to the President of Congress, on his nomi- 
nation to the supreme command of the lU'my, was in, 
the following words : 

" Mr. President, 

*^ Though I am truly sensible of the high honour 
done me in this appointment, yet I feel great distress 
from a consciousness that my abilities and military ex- 
perience may not be equal to the extensive and im- 
portant trust ; however as theCongress desire it, I will 
enter upon the momentous duty, and exert every po\v» 

P2. er 



322 WASHINGTON. 

er I possess in their service and for support of the 
glorious cause. I beg they will accept my most cor- 
dial thanks for this distinguished testimony of their 
approbation. 

*' But lest some unlucky event should happen unfa- 
vourable to my reputation, I beg it may be remem- 
bered by every gentleman in the room, that I this 
day declare, with the utmost sincerity, I do not think 
myself equal to the command J am honoured with. 

" As to my pay, I beg leave to assure the Con- 
gress, that, as no pecuniary consideration could have 
tempted me to accept this arduous employment, at the 
expence of my domestic peace and happiness, I do not 
•wish to make any profit from it. I will keep an ex- 
act account of my expences — those, I doubt not, they 
will discharge, and this is all I desire." 

This speech is a proof of that disinterestedness 
and modesty which were the distinguishing character- 
istics of Washington's mind. In private life, he was 
hospitable and friendly. These social virtues, togeth- 
er with his tried valour, made him truly estimable in 
the eyes of his countrymen. His election to the su- 
preme command was attended by no competition — 
every member of Congress, especially those of New- 
England, were convinced of his integrity, and chose 
him as the man best qualified to raise their expecta- 
tions and fix their confidence. 

The appointment of Washington was attended with 
other promotions, namely, 4 Major-Generals, 1 Adju- 
tant-General, and 8 Brigadier-Generals. 

On the day following, a special commission was 
presented to Washington by Congress. At the same 
time, they resolved unanimously, in a full meeting, 
" That they would maintain and assist him, and ad- 
here to him with their lives and fortunes, in the cause 
of American liberty." In their instructions, they au- 
thorised him " to order and dispose of the army un- 
der his command as might be most advantageous for 
obtaining the end for which it had been raised, making 
it his special care, in discharge of the great trust 

com- 



WASHINGTON. 3^3 

committed to him, thr ' the liberties of America re- 
ceived no detriment." 

Washington's dialdence on the acceptance of his 
commission was extremely natural. His comprehen- 
sive mind anticipated the numerous difficulties which 
must attend his employment, and he would gladly 
have preferred the pleasures of a rural life to all the 
" pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war." 

His taking the command of the American army 
was, therefore, a strong exertion of self-denial to an 
unambitious man, who enjoyed all the real blessings 
of life in the bosom of independence. Let us, for a 
moment, turn our attention to his private afiairsj and 
we will behold him blest with the rational pleasures 
of a philosophic retirement, with his table overspread 
with plenty, and his pillow smoothed by the hand of 
conjugal love. Could man desire more ? — Was not 
this the summit of human happiness ? But now, when 
the voice of his country demands his aid, he takes the 
field, in her defence, with filial attachment. 

In the beginning of July, Washington set out for 
the camp at Cambridge, in order to assume the com- 
mand of the army. On his way thither, he was treat- 
ed with every demonstration of respect, escorted by 
detachments of gentlemen who had formed volunteer 
associations, and honoured with public addresses of 
congratulation from the Provincial Congress of New- 
York and Massachusetts, 

In answer to these addresses, Washington, after de- 
claring his high sense of the regard shewn him, add- 
ed, " Be assured, that every exertion of my worthy 
colleagues and myself will be extended to the re-esta- 
blishment of peace and harmony between the Mother- 
countrv and these Colonies. M^ to the fatal, but ne- 
cessary operations of war, w^en we assumed the Sol- 
dier, we did not lay aside r|te Citizen ; and we shall 
most sincerely rejoice with W^ in that happy hour, 
when the re-establishment of /^i^ierican liberty, on the 
most firm and solid foundation syMiall enable us to re- 
turn to our private stations, in the bosom of a free> 
peaceful, and happy country.'* 



\ 



324 WASHINGTON. 

On his arrival at the camp, he was received with 
the joyful acclamations of the American army. He 
found the British troops intrenched on Bunker's-Hill, 
and defended by 3 floating batteries in Mystic river, 
while the Americans were intrenched on Winter-hill, 
Prospect-Hill, and Roxbury, with a communication, 
by small posts, over an extent of 10 miles. As the 
Provincial soldiers had repaired to the camp in their 
ordinary clothing-, the hunting shirt was adopted for 
the sake of uniformity. Washington found a large 
body of men, indifferently disciplined, and but badly- 
provided with arms and ammunition. Besides, they 
had neither engineers, nor sufficient tools for the erec- 
tion of fortifications. He also found uncommon diffi- 
culties in the organization of his army. linterprizing 
leaders had distinguished themselves at the commence- 
ment of hostilities, and their followers, from attach- 
ment, were not willing to be commanded by officers, 
who, tho' appointed by Congress, were strangers to, 
them. To subject the licentiousness of freemen to 
the controul of military discipline, was both an ardu- 
ous and delicate task. ,. However, the genius of Wash- 
ington triumphed over all difficulties., Ii] his letter to 
Congress, after he, had reviewed the troops, he says, 
<* I And here excellent materials for an amny— able- 
bodied men, of undoubted courage, and zealous in the 
cause." la the same letter, he complains of the want 
of ammunition, camp-equipage, and many other re- 
quisites of an army. 

. Washington, at the head of bis troops, published 
a declaration, previously drawn up by Congress, ex- 
pressive of their motives for taking up arms. It was 
written in energetic language, and contained the fol= 
lowing^ remarkable passages: 

" Were it possible for men, who exercise their rea- 
son, to believe that- the Divine Author of our exist- 
ence intended a part of the human race to hold an ab- 
6plute pi-opcrty in, and unbounded power over others, 
marked out by his infinite goodness and wisdom as the 
objects of a legal domination, never rightfully resist- 

able,- 



WASHINGTON. 3^5 

able, however severe and oppressive, the inhabitants 
of these Colonies might, at least, require from the 
Parliament of Great Britain some evidence, that this . 
dreadful authority over them has been granted to that 
body. But, a reverence for our great Creator, princi- 
ples of humanity, and the dictates of common sense, 
must convince all those who reflect upon the subject, 
that government was instituted to promote the welfare 
of mankind, and ought to be administered for the at- 
tamment of that end. 

« The Legislature of Great Britain, however, sti- 
mulated by an inordinate passion for power, not only 
unjustifiable, but which they know to be peculiarly re- 
probated by the Constitution of that kingdom, and des- 
pairing of success in any mode of contest where re- 
gard should be had to truth, law, or right, have at 
length, deserting those, attempted to. effect their cru- 
el and impolitic purpose of enslaving these Colonies 
by violence, and have thereby rendered it necessary 
for us to close witii their last appeal from Reason to 
Arms. Yet,, however blinded that assembly may be, 
by their intemperate rage for unlimited domination, 
so to slight justice and the opinion of mankind, we 
esteem ourselves bound, by obligations of respect to 
the rest of the world, to make known the justice, of 
of our cause." 

. This bold and explicit manifesto was dated at Phila- 
delphia, the 6lh of July, 1775, and subscribed by 
John Hancock,. President of Congress, and Charles 
Thompson, Secretary. 

A general spirit of unanimity pervaded the colo- 
nies at this momentous period. Men o£all ranks and 
ages were. animated with martial ardour, and even re- 
ligious prejudices were overcome by patriotic enthu- 
siasm. Several young men of the Quaker persua- 
slon joined the military associations ; and the number 
of men inarms throughout the colonies was very con- 
siderable. 

Notwithstanding these warlike preparations, the 
A.mericans unanimously protested tliat they took up 

arms 



3^^ WASHINGTON, 

arms only to obtain a redress of grievances ; and that 
ascpaiationfrom the parent state was an object fo- 
reign to their wishes. The rancour, however, that 
accompanies a civil war, was productive of mutual re- 
proaches, and theslightestproof of enmity was keen- 
ly telt as proceeding from those who were once friends. 
An instance of this nature happened at Boston, 
while invested by the provincial army, and produced 
the memorable correspondence between the respec- 
tive commanders. The last letter, written by Gene- 
ral Washington to General Gage, exhibited a lively 
portrait of his character and principles as well as those 
of his countrymen — It contained the following strik- 
ing passages : 

" Whether British or American mercy, fortitude 
and patience, are most pre-eminent ; whether our 
victorious citizens, whom the hand of tvranny has 
forced into arms to defend their property and freedom, 
or the mercenary instrument of lawless domination, 
avarice, and revenge, best deserve the appellation of 
rebels, and the punishment of that cord, which your 
attected clemency has forborn to inflict ; whether the 
authority under which 1 act, is usurped, or founded 
upon the principles of liberty ; such considerations are 
altogether fortiga to the subject of our correspondence 
--I purposely avoid all political disquisition ; nor shall 
1 avail myself of those advantages, which the sacred 
cause of my country, of liberty, and human nature, 
give me over you ; much less shall I stoop to retort 
any invective. 

"You afleet. Sir, to despise all rank not derived 
trom the same source with your own. I cannot con- 
ceive one more honourable than that which flows 
Irom t/ie wicorrujitcd choke of a brave and free People 
tlie purest source and original fountain of all power! 
l^ar fromthmking it a plea for cruelty, a mind of 
true magnanimity, and enlarged ideas, would com- 
prehend and respect it." 

This celebrated letter was by the Americans repre* 

bcnted 



WASHINGTON. 327 

seated as the most perfect model of the style becom- 
ing the Commander in Chief, and the occasion to 
which it was adapted ; nay, it was commended in 
different parts of Europe, and even in England, as 
the most proper answer he could make. 

In September, General Gage sailed for England ; 
and the command of the British army devolved on 
General Howe. 

Meanwhile, the army under Washington continu- 
ed the blockade of Boston so closely, as to prevent all 
intercourse between that town and the country. The 
provincial force was formed into three grand divisions, 
of which General Ward commanded the right wing, 
General Lee the left, and the center was commanded 
by Washington. The army was arranged by Gene-f 
ral Gates, by whose exertions miUtary discipline was 
gradually and successfuly introduced ; the ofticers and 
privates were taught the necessity of a due subordina- 
tion, and became expert in the different manoeuvres 
that constitute the regularity of an army. 

One insuperable obstacle to the provincial army's 
arriving at perfect discipline was, the shortness of the 
time for which the men had been enlisted. It had been 
limited to six months, and no part of the troops were 
engaged longer than the 1st of Jan. 1776. To pre- 
vent the English General from taking advantage of 
this circumstance, Washington was obliged occasion- 
ally to call in the militia when the disbanded men left 
the camp, in order tliat the. works should be properly 
defended. 

Ticonderop-a had i>een taken by Colonel Arnold on 
the loth of May. This important fortress is situated 
on a promontory, formed at the junction of Lake; 
George and Lake Champlain, and consequently it is 
the key of communication between New York and 
Canada. Arnold, Hushed with success, wrote a let- 
ter to Congress, in which he offered to reduce the 
whole province of Canada with 2000 men. From the 
impetuosity of his disposition, he advised the adoptiqn 
of an offensive war, but as Congress did net wish to 

widen 



328 WASHINGTON. 

widen the breach between Great Britain and the Colo- 
nies,and an accommodation was their wish,they defer» 
red the invasion ot Canada. 

Sir Guy Carleton, the governor of that province, 
planned a scheme for the recovery of Ticonderoga 
and Crown Point, another fort taken by the Ameri- 
oins. He had been invested with full powers to em- 
body the Canadians, and march them against the ene- 
my ; however, they were very unwilling to engage in 
the contest, but he hoped on the arrival of reinforce- 
ments, to compel them to act. Meantime he had col- 
lected a numerous body of Indians ; his troops though 
few, were v/ell disciplined, and the United Colo- 
nies had reason to dread a man of his intrepidity and 
abilities. 

. When Congress were informed of these exertion* 
in Canada, they thought it expedient to make a vigor- 
ous attack upon that province, in order to prevent the 
invasion of their north-western frontier. In conse- 
quence of this determination, an army of 3000 men 
under the command of Generals Schuyler and Mont- 
gomery, were sent to effect the conquest of Canada. 
They proceeded to Lake Champlain, and thence by 
•water to St.. John's, the first British post in Canada. 
The Americans landed and besieged the fortress, 
which was bravely defended by the garrison under 
Major Preston., Illness obliged General Schuyler to 
retire to Albany, and the sole command of the troops 
devolved on Montgomery, who prosecuted the seige 
with such vigour, that in a few days he became mas- 
ter of the place. After the reduction of St. John's,. 
Montgomery advanced to Montreal with his victorious 
army. On his approach to that town, the few British 
forces which composed the garrison, repaired for safe- 
ty on board the shipping, in hopes of escaping down 
the river, but they .were prevented by a body of con- 
tinental troops under the command , of Colonel Eas- 
ton, who v/as stationed at the point of Sorel river.— 
General Prescot with several officers, and 120 privates, 
sui'rendered themselves prisoners, on terms of capi-. 

tu- 



WASHINGTON. 32> 

tulation ; and the American General, after leaving a 
garrison in Montreal, advanced with a rapid march 
towards the capital of Canada. 

While Montgomery was thus pursuing the career 
of victory, the province of Canada was invaded in ano- 
ther quarter by an enemy no less enterprising and in- 
trepid than himself. A detachment of 1000 men was 
sent by General Washington, from the American ar- 
my at Cambridge. This expedition was conducted 
by Colonel Arnold, who led his troops by an unex- 
plored route thro' the wilderness. The difficulties en- 
countered by this detachment during 31 days, were 
almost insurmountable. They proceeded in boats by 
the river Kenebeck, and were obliged to work up- 
wards against its impetuous current. A^ter suffering 
various hardships, and losing above l-3d of his men, 
by sickness and desertion. Colonel Arnold arrived at 
the inhabited part of Canada, after a march of 6 weeks. 

The appearance of Colonel Arnold before Quebec 
threw the inhabitants into the greatest consternation ; 
but, as in his march it had been impossible to bring 
any cannon, he could only seize the avenues that led 
to the city, in order to cut off supplies and provisions, 
and await the arrival of the troops under Montgomery^ 

On the 5th of December, 1775, Montgomery aiTiv- 
ed in sight of Quebec. He summoned it in due form, 
but the garrison fired at his flag of truce, and refused 
to admit his message. As the depth of winter ap- 
proached, he was convinced of the necessity of either 
raising the siege, or taking the city by escalade. 

General Carleton made such exertions as evinced the 
most determined resistance, and his example animat- 
ed the courage of the garrison. The town was re- 
markably strong both by nature and art, and the num- 
ber of the besiegers was inconsiderable ; besides, the 
vigilance of the Governor was such, that every part 
was guarded with the greatest circumspection. 

Montgomery, on the other hand, possessed all those 
romantic ideas of military glory which prevailed in 
the days of chivalry ; and this love of enterprize was 

cher- 



330 WASHINGTON. 

cherished by an intrepidity which made him overlook 
all perils ; he was conscious that his troops would fol- 
low with alacrity wherever he should lead, and he de- 
termined to take the city by storm, or perish in the 
attempt. 

On the 31st of December, 1775, he advanced to the 
attack by break of day. In order to incite emulation 
among the Provincial troops, there were two attacks, 
one by the New-England-men, headed by Arnold, and 
the other by the New- York-men, whom the General 
led in person. 

The way thro* which Montgomery and his party 
had to pass was narrow, and as he knew the most des- 
perate exertions of valour would be required, he had 
selected a number of his most resolute men for this 
cnterprize. He advanced amid a heavy shower of 
snow, and, having seized the first barrier, he rushed 
forward at the head of his party, and hastened to close 
in upon the enemy. The second barrier, which led 
directly to the gates of the lower town, was defended 
by a strong body of the garrison, who were posted 
there with several pieces of cannon ready loaded. — 
Montgomery advanced, with a rapid movement, and 
was received with a volley of musketry and grape- 
shot, that, in an instant, killed and wounded almost 
the whole of his party. He fell himself, with his 
principal officers. The troops Ave re so much discon- 
certed by the loss of their General, that they retreat- 
ed. In the mean time, Colonel Arnold was engaijed 
in a furious assault on the opposite side of the town. 
He attacked and carried a barrier defended with can- 
non, but this success was attended with a great loss 
of men, and he received a wound himself, which 
made it necessary to carry him off the field of battle. 
The officers on whom the command devolved conti- 
nued the assault, and took possesion of another bar- 
rier ; but, the besieged, who now perceived the incon- 
siderable number of the assailants, sallied from a gate 
that opened towards their rear, and attacked them in 
turn. The Provincials were now hemmed in from all 

pos* 



WASHINGTONi 33X 

possibility of a retreat, and exposed to a tremendous 
fire from the walls ; yet, in this dreadful situation, 
they maintained the contest 3 hours before they sur- 
rendered. 

Tho' this expedition had failed in the great object, 
yet it effectually prevented any invasion from that 
quarter, a circumstance that had been apprehended 
by Congress. 

The southern provinces now became involved in the 
contest, especially Virginia, where the disputes of the 
Governor, Lord Dunmore, with the Assembly, after 
repeated aggravations on both sides, terminated in 
open hostilities. He had retired from Williamsburg 
to Norfolk, where he was joined by a considerable 
number of Loyalists ; but, after several skirmishes, 
lie was obliged to retire to the shipping that lay in the 
river adjacent to the town. As it was now in the 
possession of the Americans, they not only refused to 
supply the people on board with provisions, but an- 
noyed them by a number of riflemen, who were placed 
in houses near the ships, and who inhumanly aimed 
at, and killed several persons on board. Exasperated 
at their conduct. Lord Dunmore ordered a party to 
land, under cover of a man of war, and set fire to the 
town. Thus Norfolk was reduced to ashes, and the 
loss was estimated at 300,000/. sterling. 

Meantime, the Governors of the two Carolinas were 
expelled by the people, and obliged to take refuge on 
board the British men of war. 

Thus, at the conclusion of the year 1775, the whole 
of the British Colonies, except the town of Boston, 
were united against the Mothei -country. 

The British troops at Boston had endured a tedious 
blockade with their characteristic fortitude. All com- 
munication with the country was prevented, and the 
garrison suffered many inconveniencies from the want 
of necessaries. They felt the severities of a winter 
campaign in a rigorous climate, especially those who 
were stationed at Bunker's-Hill, where they lay ex- 
posed to winds and snows almost intolerable to a Briti- 
ish constitution. 



S3Z WASHINGTON. 

The Provincials, in the mean time, Avere well sup- 
plied with necessaries in their encampment before 
Boston. Here Washington presided, and, by his pru« 
dent regulations, the troops had all the comforts of good 
tents, bedding, and fresh provisions. 

An intense frost usually begins throughout New 
England about the latter end of December, when the 
harbour of Boston, and all the rivers in the environs 
of that town, are generally frozen to a depth of ice 
sufficient to bear a great weight. Wtishington pro- 
posed to take possession not only of the town, but al- 
so to take or destroy all the shipping in the harbour, 
and by this decisive enterprize, put a conclusion to all 
the hopes of Great Britain in this quarter. His troops . 
were eager to distinguish themselves by this atchieve- 
ment, and, if requisite, a greater force could soon be 
collected to second their eiVorts. This winter, howe- 
ver, was unusually mild, and, by preventing the opcr 
rations of the Provincials, both they and the garrison 
were obliged to remain inactive. 

In the mean time, Mr. Penn, who had bro't over 
the last petition from Congress, was examined at the 
bar of the House of Lords. This gentleman had been 
Governor of Pennsylvania, he was personally acquaint- 
ed v/ith most of the members of Congress, and was 
qualified to give the most authentic information re- 
specting the temper and inclinations of the Americans. 
It appeared from his testimonies, that the charge of 
aiming at Independence, which had been imputed to 
Congress, was unfounded. They had been fairly e- 
lected, were men of charactev and abilities, the Colo- 
nies had the highest confidence in their integrity, and 
were governed by their decisions. 

From his account, it appeared, that Pennsylvania, 
alone, was able to raise 60.000 men, 20,000 of whom 
had already enrolled themselves to serve without pay, 
and were armed and embodied before his departure 
from the continent. Besides, they had, in imitation 
of the Colony of Massachusetts, instituted a corps of 
minute-men, amounting to 5000. 

Af- 



WASHINGTON. 333 

After a tedious debate in both Houses of Parlia- 
ment, the petition of Congress was rejected, all at- 
tempts to reconciliation were suspended, the stand- 
ard of defiance seemed now to be raised, and both 
parties appeared determined to make the last appeal 
to arms. 

When the news of this rejection of the American 
petition reached the camp before Boston, the troops 
expressed the greatest indignation. As Georgia had 
joined the confederacy, the Americans now changed 
their colours from a plain red ground, to 13 stripes, 
alternately red and white, to denote the number of the 
United Colonies. 

Washington exerte'd his skill and activity, in order 
to compel the British either to surrender or evacuate 
Boston before any succours could arrive from Eng- 
land. On the 2d of March, 1776, he opened a batte- 
ry on the west side of the town, and bombarded it.-— 
This attack was supported by a tremendous cannon- 
ade ; and, on the 5th, another battery was opened on 
the eastern shore. The garrison sustained this dread- 
ful bombardment v/ith the greatest fortitude ; it lasted 
14 days without intermission, when General Howe, 
finding the place no longer tenable, resolved to em^ 
bark for H alii fax. 

The evacuation of Boston was not interrupted by 
the Provincials, lest the British troops ishould set it 
on fire. 

When the Americans took possession of Boston, 
they found a multitude of vahiabie articles which were 
unavoidably left behind by the British army. The 
principal of these were artillery and ammunition ;— 
but the most valuable booty was a large cjuanaty of 
woollens and linens, of which the Provincials stood 
in the most pr.-ssing need. 

Washington now directed his attention to the fortifi- 
cations of Boston, He employed a number of foreign 
engineers (.0 superintend tlie construction of new 
works, and so eager vvere the pt-ople in the prosecu- 
tion of this business, that every eflective man in the 

town, 



334 WASHINGTON. 

town, without distinction, devoted 2 days of the week 
to its completion. 

As Washington was uncertain of the destination of 
the British fleet and army which had left Boston, and 
as New- York lay exposed to any sudden attack, he 
detached several of his best regiments, under Gene- 
j'al Lee, for the defence of that city. 

Meanwhile, a small fleet, under the command of 
Sir Peter Parker, and a body of troops, under Gene- 
rals Cornwallis, Clinton, and Vaughan, sailed for 
Charleston, the capital of South-Carolina. After a vi- 
olent, but unsuccessful attack, in which the fleet re- 
ceived considerable damage, the expedition was aban- 
doned. 

On the 4th of July, 1776, the Representatives of 
the United States of America, in Congress assembled, 
formally renounced all connection with Great Britain, 
and declared themselves independent. They also pub- 
lished a manifesto, stating a list of grievances, which, 
notwithstanding their repeated petitions, remained un- 
redressed. For these reasons, they determined on a 
final separation from the Mother-country, and to hold 
the people of Great Britain as the rest of mankind, 
" enemies in war, in peace friends." — This celebrat- 
ed Declaration of Independence concluded as follows : 

^' We, the Representatives of the United States of 
America, in General Congress assembled, appealing 
to the Supreme Judge of the World for the recti- 
tude of our intentions, do, in the name, and by the 
authority of the good people of these Colonies, so- 
lemnly publish and declare, that the United Colonies 
are, and of right ought to be, free and independent 
States, and that they are absolved from ail allegiance 
to the British Crown, and that all political connection 
between them and the State of Great Britain is, and 
ought to be, totally dissolved ; and tliat, as free and 
independent States, they have full power to make 
war, conclude peace, contract alliances, establish com- 
merce, and to do all other acts and things which inde- 
pendent States may of right do. And for the support 

of 



WASHINGTON; 335 

lof this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the pro- 
tection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to 
each other our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred ho- 
nour." 

This formal renunciation of allegiance to Great 
Britain, was followed by the greatest preparations for 
war throughout the United States. 

Washington took every precaution for defensive 0- 
perations, by erecting forts, and stationing troops at 
the most vulnerable points. The nature of the coun- 
try was peculiarly favourable to defence, New-Eng- 
land, especially, presented many natural barriers, con- 
sisting of hills and mountains, intersected by rivers, 
and interspersed with woods and precipices — several 
denies, skirted by impenetrable forests — while majes- 
tic rivers, flowing with impetuous currents, seemed 
to preclude the invader. 

General Howe resolved to quit Hallifax, and pro- 
ceed to Ncw-York, where he intended to wait for the 
reinforcements from England. He sailed about the 
middle of June, and at the end of the month arrived 
at Sandy-Hook, a point of land which stands at the 
entrance of a large body of water, formed by the con- 
fluence of several rivers, and which is surrounded by- 
New- York, Staten, and Long-Island. 

About the middle of July, Lord Howe arrived with 
a fleet and army from England. He sent a circular 
letter to the Governors who had been displaced by 
their respective provinces, in which he explained, that 
he was impowered, in conjunction with his brother, to 
grant general or particular pardons to all those who 
were willing to return to their allegiance to tiic King 
of Great Britain. Congress ordered this letter to be 
published in all the news- papers, in order that the 
people of America might know the terms on which 
they were to act, viz. either unconditional submissi- 
on, or a bold and manly resistance to despotic power; 
and, that those who relied on the justice or moder- 
ation of the British Ministry, tnight be fully convin- 
ced, that they nmst trust to their own valour for the 
preservation of their liberties. 



336 WASHINGTON. 

Lord Howe next sent a letter to the American 
Commander in Chief, but, as it was directed to 
" George Washington, Esq." the General refused to 
receive it, as not directed to him agreeable to his sta- 
tion. His conduct, on this occasion, received the u- 
Jianimous approbation of Congress. 

To obviate this difficulty, Adjutant-General Pater- 
son was sent by General Howe with a letter directed 
to " George Washington, &c. Sec. 8cc." He was po- 
litely received, and immediately admitted to the pre- 
sence of the American General. The Adjutant ex- 
pressed much concern on account of the difficulties 
that had arisen from the superscription of the former 
letter, and hoped that the et ceteras would remove all 
obstruction to an intercourse between the Commission- 
ers and General Washington. To this he replied, 
<* that a letter written to a person invested with a pub- 
lic character should specify it, otherwise it could not 
be distinguished from a letter on private business; 
true it was, the et ceteras implied every thing, but it 
v/as no less true, that they implied any thing." 

The most interesting part of the conversation was 
that respecting the power of the Commissioners, whom 
the Adjutant said, were ready to exert themselves to 
the utmost to eftect a reconciliation. The General 
replied, that it did not appear that these powers con- 
sisted in any more than granting pardons ; but as A- 
merica had committed no offence, she asked no for- 
giveness, and was only defending her unquestionable 
rights. 

From this conference, it was evident, that nothing 
but a decided superiority in the field could induce the 
Americans to relax tiie resolutions which they had ta- 
ken with so much deliberatiMi and solemnity. 

The firmness of Congress had inspired the provin- 
cials with enthusiasvii. That resolute body had de- 
claredx\merica independent in the very face of the Bri- 
tish fieet and army, while the first was casting anchor 
in sight of NewYork, and the reinforcements IromEng- 
!and were making the second lanmng on Staten Island. 

An 



WASHINGTON, 337 

An attack upon Long Island being determined on 
by the British commanders, the fleet covered the de- 
scent of the army, which effected a landing without 
any opposition, on the 22d of August, 1776. Gene- 
ral Putnam, with a large body of troops, lay encamp- 
ed and strongly fortified, on a northern peninsula on 
the opposite shore, with a range of hills betAveen the 
armies, the principal pass of which was at a village 
called Flat Bush. 

Large detachments of the American army occupied 
the hills and passes. The right of the British army 
was commanded by General Clinton, Lord Percy, and 
Lord Cornwallis ; the centre, composed of Hessians, 
under General Heister, was posted at Flat Bush ; and 
the left under General Grant, was stationed near the 
sea shore. 

Early in the morning of the 27th, the engagement 
was begun by the Hessians, and a heavy fire of can- 
non and musquetry was continued on both sides for 
several hours. One of the passes which lay at a dis- 
tance, had been neglected by the Americans, which 
gave an opportunity to the right division of the Bri- 
tish army to pass the hills, and attack them in the 
rear. 

The Americans, when apprized of their danger, 
retreated towards their camp, but they were intercept- 
ed, and driven back into the woods. Here they were 
met by the Hessians, and thus exposed to the fire of 
two parties. No way of escape now remained, but 
by forcing their way thro' the ranks of the enemy, 
and thus regaining their camp. This numbers of 
them effected, but by far the greater part were either 
killed or taken prisoners. 

Washington had crossed over from New York iti 
the height of the engagement, but he came too late 
to retrieve the fortune of the day. He had the mor- 
tification to see some of his best troops killed or tak- 
en, without being able to afford them aoy assistance, 

Q but 



338 W/^SHINGTON. 

but he used his utmost exertions to save those that 
remained by a well conducted retreat. 

The victory was complete : the Americans lost up- 
^vards of 3000 men, including 2000 killed, and 1000 
taken prisoners, among whom were three generals — 
On the side of the British, the loss in killed and 
wounded was only about 500. Among the provhicials 
who fell, a regiment from Maryland was particularly 
regretted. It consisted wholly of young men of the 
best families in that province. They behaved with 
the most admirable heroism : tliey were every one 
killed or wounded, and thus perished in the bloom of 
youth. 

After this defeat, Washington did not think it ex- 
pedient to risk another action against a numerous ar- 
my of veterans, well provided with artillery, and e- 
lated with their recent victory. New York required 
to be strengthened, and the emergency did not ad- 
mit of a moment's delay ; for should the lirilish fleet 
be able to station itself between the cair.p and that ci- 
ty, all would be inevitably lo*t. 

In this extremity, Washington exerted all his cha- 
racteristic vigilance and circumspection. In the night 
of the 29th of August, favoured by darkness, and 
in the most profound silence, he conveyed his troojjs 
on board the boats and landed them on the opposite 
shore. He also carried oB" as much of their baggage, 
military stores and artillery, as the time would per- 
mit. This retreat was conducted with so much se- 
crecy, that with the dawn, the British troops were 
surprised to see the rear guard of the American ar- 
my in the boats and beyond the reach of danger. 

When Wasliington returned with the army to New- 
York, he ordered batteries to be erected on every spot 
whence they could annoy the ships of war, which 
were now stationed in that part of the river which 
faces the city. 

The men of war were contiiiually engaged with 
those batt(-'ries, some of which they silenced and en- 
abled the Britisli tioops to pioceed up the river, to a 

bay 



WASHINGTON, 539 

bay about three miles distant. Here the troOps land^ 
€d under the cannon of the fleet, and marched direct- 
ly towards the city, on which Washington retreated 
with his men to the north of York Island. On this 
occasion, he lost a great part of his artillery and mili- 
tary stores, yet he engaged the British troops where* 
ever he could make an advantageous standi. 

Washington had been particularly careful to fortify 
the pass called King's bridge, and had chosen this 
position for his army with the greatest judgment. He 
could advance or retiie at pleasure, without any dan- 
ger of being cut off in case of a defeat. Though he 
was determined not to risk a general engagement, yet 
in order to inure his troops to actual service, and at 
the same time annoy the enemy, he employed them 
in continual skirmishes, in consequence of which they 
gradually becamp. expert soldiers. 

It was now determined to force the Americans to 
a greater distance, lest others of their emissaries 
should engage in an attempt to destroy the city. 

Accordingly, General Howe left a sufficient gai'* 

rison at New York, and embarked his army in iJat 
bottomed boats, by which they Ave re conveyed thro* 
the dangerous passage called Hell Gate, and landed 
near the town of West Chest<;r, on the continent. — 
After having fresh reinforcements, the Royal army 
made such movements as threatened to distress the 
Americans, by cutting oiF their supplies of provisions 
from Connecticut, and thus force them to an engage- 
ment. 

Washington held a council of war with his officers, 
in which it was resolved to quit their present position 
and extend the army in a long but well secured line. 
This the general accomplished, by keeping the Brunx 
a river of considerable depth, in front, between the 
two armies, with rhe north river on his rear. 

On the 28th of October, at break of day, the Brit- 
ish troops divided into two columns, advanced towards 
the White Plains, an extent of high ground, full of 
craggy hills and denies. 

The 



S40 WASHINGTON. 

The Americans maintained their ground in front 
till noon, when they were attacked with such vigour 
by the British army, that they were compelled to re* 
tire to their intrenchments. 

During the night, Washington, ever intent on the 
defence and preservation of his army, ordered several 
additional works to be thrown up in front of the lines, 
in consequence of which, the English General tho't 
it imprudent to attack him till the arrival of remforce- 
ments. 

On mature delibemtion, however, Washington tho't 
it adviseable to retreat : his camp was broke up on the 
1st ot November, and he retired, with his army, into 
a mountainous country, called the Township of New- 
castle. By these judicious movements, he avoided a 
general action. His system was, to harrass the ene- 
my, and habituate his men to danger, so that, when 
the emergency required it, they might be able to act 
with energy. 

When General Howe found that all his attempts to 
bring the enemy to an action v/ere ineffectual, he turn- 
ed his attention to the reduction of Forts Washington 
and Lee. A division of his army advanced to King's 
Bridge, from which the Americans withdrew into 
Fort Washington, which was immediately invested. 
This fort was situated on the western side of New- 
York island, in the vicinity of the city, and nearly 
opposite to Fort Lee, which had been lately erected 
on the other side of the water, in the province of Jer- 
sey. Its chief strength was in its situation, and it 
was defended by 3000 men, well supplied with artille- 
ry. On the 16th of November, this fort was attacked 
by the British army, in four divisions, and, after a re- 
sistance of some hours, the garrison was overpower- 
ed, and obliged to surrender themselves prisoners of 

war. 

In order to obtain the full command of the North- 
River, it was also necessary to reduce Fort Lee. For 
this purpose, Lord Cornwallis crossed the river, land- 
ed on the Jersey shore, and marched with all possi- 
ble 



WASHINGTON. 341 

ble expedition to surprize the garrison. Being ap- 
prized of kis approach, they evacuated the fort, leav- 
ing all their artillery and warlike stores to the fenemy- 
Thus both the Jerseys were laid open to the incursions 
of the British troops. They penetrated so far, that 
their winter-quarters extended from New Brunswick 
to the river Delaware ; and so great was the conster- 
nation of the Americans, that, had the British army 
found a sulTicient number of boats to ferry them over 
the Delaware, it is highly probable that Philadelphia 
would have fallen into their hands. 

Meanwhile, Sir Henry Clinton undertook an expe- 
dition to Rhode-Island, and became master of that 
province, without the loss of a man. The affairs of 
the Americans also wore an inauspicious aspect on 
their northern frontiei's, where General Arnold was 
defeated by General Carleton, and compelled to retire 
from Crown-Point to Ticonderoga. 

The American army was now almost entirely dis- 
banded As the time for which the soldiei's had en- 
listed was only a twelvemonth, at the expiration of 
that period, having fulfilled their agreement, they re- 
turned home, in consequence of which. General 
Washington found his army decreased trom 30,000 to 
about 3000 men. To assist the Commander in Chief 
as much as possible, General Lee had collected a bo- 
dy of forces in the north, but, on his way southward, 
having imprudently lodged at some distance from the 
troops, he was made prisoner by a party of British 
light dragoons, who brought him to New-York. 

The capture of General Lee was a heavy loss to the 
Americans. His professional knowledge was great, 
both in the theory and practice of tactics ; he was full 
of activity, fertile in expedients, and of a most intre- 
pid and enterprizing disposition. 

Congress now exerted themselves to retrieve their 
losses, and to recruit their army. They were fur- 
nished with a just plea for altering their mode of en- 
listing men : they ordered a new army to be levied, 
©f which the soldier should be bound to serve 3 years, 

or 



S4Z WASHINGTON, 

or during tl>e continuance of the war. The most li- 
beral encouragement was to be given to recruits. — 
Twenty dollars was allowed to every soldier, as boun- 
ty, besides an allotment of lands, at the end of the war, 
«o ail that served, and to the families of those wha 
should lose their lives in the service of their country. 

AH the provinces exerted themselves in this season 
of uuiversal danger, and hastened to send whatever 
rein,fo*-'cements could he raised to their army that lay 
in the vicinity of Philadelphia. 

Exclusive of the dread of being exposed to a victo- 
rious enemy, the Americans were particularly apprc- 
hensive of the Hessians, and other Germans, wha 
had, on every occasion, committed the most barbarous 
outrages. Those ferocious mercenaries appropriated 
every thing they could lay their hands upon, and plun- 
dered a people who not only detested but despised 
them for their meanness and rapacity. 

As the British troops lay cantoned on the banks of 
the Delaware, and only waited till the frost would ena- 
ble them to cross it, the Americans thought it advise- 
iible to remove their Congress to Baltimore, in Mary- 
Tand. Meanwhile, General Washington continued to 
watch over the safety of his country ; his mind was 
continually occupied v/ith new plans for the protection 
of his beloved America; and he beheld, with filial so- 
licitude, the dangers that threatened her liberties. 

The British army now occupied a chain of towns 
and villages throughout the heart of the Jersies, and 
had extended their quarters to the banks of the Dela- 
ware. General Washington resolved to make some 
attempts on those divisions of the enemy that lay 
neareast that city, and, if possible, relieve it from the 
danger to which it was exposed. 

A corps of Hessians lay at Trenton, another at 
Bordenton, some miles lower down, and a third at 
Burlington. Those towns were on the opposite bank 
of the Delaware, and the last within 20 miles of Phi-, 
ladelphia. The Hessians, from a confidence in 
their military superiority, became inattentive to tha 

mo- 



WASHINGTON. 343 

Tnotions of the Americans, and were wholly engaged 
with those licentious ouiragesthat had rendered them 
odious to all the inhabitants. 

Washington prepared to surprize the enemy hi 
their quarters. Accordingly, he formed his army in- 
to three divisions — the first was to cross the Delaware 
at Trenton ferry — the second below Bordenton — and 
the third he commanded in person, accompanied by 
Generals Sullivan and Greene. This division consist- 
ed of 3000 of the best men in the American service, 
with a train of 20 field-pieces. On the 25th of De- 
cem'Der, Washington marched at the head of his di- 
vision, to a ferry some miles above Trenton, with an 
intention to pass it at midnight, which would enable 
him to arrive at Trenton with the dawn. 

It is impossible to contemplate the progress of this 
little army of patriots v/ithout eniotion* As they 
m^irch in solemn silence, wilhout one friendly ray to 
guide tlieir footsteps, what must be their sensations ? 
On the success of their enterprize depends the free- 
dom and happiness of innumerable millions yet un- 
born — on its failure awaits every evil that can appal 
the heart. The virtuous matron — the innocent child 
— the chaste virgin, all depend for protection on tliis 
heroic band. As they proceed, tlieir bosoms throb 
with anxiety, while all the ardour of the soldier aj'ises 
to overcome apprehension ; neither the rigour of a 
winter's night, nor the certainty of the perils they 
must face can deter them from their purpose. Their 
leader, who, like an eagle driven from her nest, still 
hovers about its young, what are his thoughts !— his 
noble heart forbodes success, he anticipates victory ; 
and, while he feels the glow of heroism, his fortitude 
is prepared to brave even defeat itself. 

In consequence of the delay occasioned by the dif- 
ficulty in breaking the ice, it was four o'clock in the 
morning before Washington could land his troops, 
Avith their artillery on the Jersey shore. He then 
formed his men into two grand divisions ; one of 

which 



344 WASHrNGTON. 

\vhich he ordered to proceed by the lower road,ancr he 
led the other by the upper road to Trenton. Though 
n was now eight o'clock, the enemy did not discov- 
er the approach of the Americans till they were at- 
tacked by Washington's division, and in three minutes 
afterwards the lower part of the town was assailed by 
the other detachmento Colonel Ralle, who com- 
manded the Hessians, made every effort that could 
be expected from a brave veteran ; but he was mortally 
wounded, his troops were completely surrounded, and 
to the number of 1000 men laid down their arms. 

This victory may be considered as one of the most 
fortunate events that befel the Americans during the 
war. Religious individuals attributed this success ta 
the interposition of Divine Providence, that had suf- 
tered America to be reduced to the extreme of dis- 
tress, in order to teach them rot to place their reli- 
ance on their own strength, but to look to an Omni- 
potent Power for protection. 

Washington repassed the Delaware, and his return 
to Philadelphia with such a considerable number of 
jM'isoners, was both pleasing and unexpected. To 
surprize a body of veterans, and defeat them in their 
own quarters, was an atchievement that excited the 
liveliest emotions of admiration in the breasts of the 
Americans. They were now emulous to second the 
efforts of a General who had so nobly effected their 
defence ; men of energy and influence were dispatched 
in all directions to rouze the militia, and about 1500 
of the American troops, whose engagement was near- 
ly expired, agreed to serve six weeks longer for a gra- 
tuity of ten dollars to each. 

When the Hessian prisoners were secured, Wash- 
ington again crossed the Delaware, and took posses- 
sion of Trenton. Several detachments of the British 
assembled at Princeton, when they were joined by 
the army from Brunswick, commanded by Lord Corn- 
wallis. This general now marched to Trenton, and 
attacked the Americans on the 2d of January, 1777, 
at 4 o'clock in the afternoon. The vanguard of tha- 

A- 



WASHINGTON. 345 

Americans was compelled to retreat, but the pursu- 
ing enemy was checked by some tield-pi-eces which 
were posted on the opposite bank of Sanpink Creek. 
Thus two armies, on which the success or failure of 
the American Revolution depended, were crowded in- 
to the village of Trenton, and only separated by a 
creek in many places fordable. The British army dis- 
continued their operations, and lay on their arms in 
readiness to make another attack next morning.— 
Meanwhile Washington ordered the baggage to be si- 
lently removed, and having left fires and patroles in 
his camp to deceive the enemy, he led his army dur- 
ing the obscurity of the night, and by a circuitous route 
reached Princeton. 

Washington had held a council of war with his of- 
ficers, in which this mavement had been determined 
on, as the most likely way to preserve the city of 
Philadelphia from being captured by the British ar- 
my. He reached Princeton early in the morning, 
and would have surrounded three regiments of Bri- 
tish Infantry that were stationed there, had not a de- 
tachment that was marching to Trenton descried his 
troops, and dispatched couriers to alarm their fellow 
soldiers. 

On their approach to Princeton, the centre of the 
Americans was charged by a party of the British 
troops, and compelled to retreat. In this emergency, 
Washington rode forward ; he placed himself between 
his flying troops and the enemy. The Americans,, 
encouraged by his exhortations and example, rallied 
and attacked the British in turn ; and tho' Washing- 
ton was for some moments between two fjres, he pro- 
videntially escaped without a wound. During this 
contest, the British troops displayed the most invinci* 
ble valour. One of the three regiments, command- 
ed by Colonel Mawbood, undismayed, by the superi- 
ority of the Americans in point of numbers, charged 
them with their bayonets, forced their way througlv 
their ranks, and marched forward to Maidenhead ^ 

q 2 the 



346 WASHINGTON. 

the other two regitnents retired in excellent order, 
and reti'eated to Brunswick. 

The British general was so much disconcerted at 
these unexpected manceuvres of Washington, that he 
evacuated Trenton, and retired with his whole force 
to Brunswick I 

Thus, in the space of a month, all that part of the 
Jerseys which lies between Brunswick and Delaware, 
was overrun by the British troops, and recovered by 
the Americans. Washington stationed troops in all 
the important places which he had regained, and the 
campaign of 1776 closed with few advantages to the 
British arms, except the acquisition of New York. 

During these hostile operations, both armies had 
suffered great hardships. Many of the American sol- 
diers were destitute of shoes, and their naked feet 
were often wounded by the inequalities of the frozen 
ground, insomuch that their footsteps were marked 
with blood.. Their clothing was, too slight for the ri- 
gorous season ; there was scarcely a tent in the 
wliole army, yet so enthusiastically were they attach- 
ed to their General, that they underwent those hard- 
ships without repining. Washington merited this 
generous confidence ; his benignity to his troops, the 
cJiearfulness with which he participated their incon- 
veniences and dangers, and the heroism which he dis- 
played in the heat of action, commanded their vene- 
ration. In the actions at Trenton and Princeton, he 
united the stratagem of Hannibal with the intrepidity 
of Cssar;. while his success animated the hopes, and 
roused the energies of the friends of American inde- 
pendence. 

Though vested with extraordinary powers to raise 
troops, he found it very difficult to keep those he had 
together. A few were influenced, by the persuasions 
of their oiTxers, to remain and defend the common 
cause, but the major part of the army were induced 
to serve by their attachment to theirGeneral. Indeed, 
tiie high e^jtimution in which he was held by his coun- 
to"ym«i"> was of the greatest efficacy on many occasions,.. 

and 



WASHINGTON. 347 

and now it absolutely prevented th% troops from dis- 
banding themselves. 

The recruits supplied by the several provinces, fell 
short of the intended number ; yet while the British 
troops were detained at New York, Washington re- 
ceived numerous reinforcements. He now moved 
from his winter encampment at Morristown, to the 
high lands about Middle Brook, in the vicinity of 
Brunswick. In this strong position,, he threw up works 
along the front of his lines, but his principal advan- 
tage was the difficulty to approach his camp, the 
ground being so judiciously occupied as to expose 
the enemy to every kind of danger in an attack. On 
the one side he covered the Jcrsies, and on the other 
he observed the motions of the British army at Bruns- 
wick, of which he commanded a full prospect. 

Many stratagems were employed by the British 
General to draw Washington from his strong situa- 
tion, but without effect, so that it was found necessa- 
ry to make an attempt on Philadelphia by sea. 

On the 23d of July, the British fleet sailed from 
Sandy Hook, with 36 battalions of British and Hessian 
Hifentry, a regiment of light dragoons, and a corps of 
American Loyalists on board. After a tedious navi- 
gation, they went up the river Elk as far as was 
practicable. Here the army landed, without opposi* 
tion, on- the 25th of August. Part ©f the troops-\vere 
left to guard the stores, while General Howe proceed- 
ed, with the main body, to the head of the Elk.. 

When Washington received information that the- 
British fleet had sailed up the Chesapeake, he march- 
ed with all possible expedition to the defence of Phi- 
ladelphia. His army, amounting to 12000, passed 
thro' that city to meet the Brhish forces, which con- 
sisted of 15000. He encamped on the Brandy wine 
"Creek, about midway from the Elk to Philadelphia, 
and sent detachments, to harjass the British army oa 
their march. 

On the approach of the enemy, Washington retired- 
to the side of the Creek next Philadelphia, with adtt- 

ter- 



34^ WASHINGTON. 

termination to dispute the passage. On the 11th of 
September, the royal ai'my advanced to the attack at 
day-break, and, after a well contested battle, which 
lasted till night, the Americans were defeated with 
the loss of 1000 killed and wounded, besides 500 taken 
prisoners. On the side of the conqueroi*s, the loss 
did not exceed 500. The victory was so complete, 
that darkness alone prevented the pursuit and conse- 
quent destruction or capture of the whole provincial 
army. The greatest valour had been displayed by 
the officers and soldiers on both sides. Among the 
American troops who distinguished themselves most> 
were the Virginians, who, from their affection for 
Washington, had on all occasions evinced the great- 
est intrepidity and enthusiasm. 

Immediately after the battle the AmeHcans retired 
to Chester, whence Washington wrote an account of 
his defeat to the President of Congress.. His letter 
is dated 12 o'clock at night, and is perhaps the most 
faithful picture ever given, of the reflections of a great 
mind amid disaster and difficulty^. His troops tho* 
defeated were not dispirited, and they. considered their 
misfortune rather as the consequence of superior skill 
en the side of their enemies, than as proceeding from 
any defect of valour on theirs.. 

Congress, which had. returned from Baltimore to 
Philadelphia, were now. obliged to retire a second 
time. They went first to. Lancaster, ajnd afterwards. 
to York-Town. 

General Howe, at*the head of the van-guard of his 
army entered Philadelphi«i in triumph on the 26th of. 
September, and the main.body of the British armyen*- 
camped in the vicinity of that city^ The American 
anny was posted at Skippach Creek sixteen miles dis- 
tant. VV.h.en Washington received the intelligence that- 
the British army was divided,he resolved to surprise the 
camp of the principal division at German Town. — . 
Accordingly, on the 3d of October, in the evening, 
he mai'chcd in great silence, and about 3 o'clock in. 
the morning he reached the British camp, and imme- 
diately. 



WASHINGTON; ?49 

diately made the requisite dispositions for an attack. 
The patroles discovered his approach, and the troops 
were called to arms. 

The Americans assailed the camp with the great- 
est intrepidity, but they were received with such bm- 
very, that, after a very h-vt action, they were repulsed, 
and compelled to retreat with considerable loss. 

When the news that Philadelphia was in possession 
of the royal army reached the northeiti colonies, they 
sent a reinforcement of 4000 of their best men to 
Washington. On tiieir arrival, he advanced vi^ithin 
1-4 miles, of the city, and fixed himself in a strong en- 
campment at White Marsh., The JBritish general 
marched out of Philadelphia in.the beginning of De- 
cember, to afford Washington an. opportunity of com- 
ing to a general engagement, but he was determined 
to act merely on the defensive. Finding that he could 
not provoke the enemy to engage, General Howe re- 
turned to the city on the 8th of December, and his 
army went into winter quarters. 

Washington now removed his camp to Valley Forge 
©n the banks of the Schuylkill, about 15 miles from. 
Philadelphia. In this strong position he could observe, 
every motion of the British army. Huts weie erect- 
ed, in order to protect his army from the rigour of 
winter. The willingnoss with= which the troops con- 
sented to undergo the. various hardships of so uncom- 
fortable a situation, was a proof of the warmth oi, 
their attachment to. thei^ General, and their determi^ 
nation to defend their country. 

While the British army were thus successful in the. 
middle colonies, more important and decisive events 
happened in the northern provinces.. General Bur- 
goyne was sent at the head. of a. veteran army, to 
make a vigorous campaign upon the lakes and in the 
adjoining provinces.. He. first took possession of Ti- 
conderoga, then crossed Lake George, and encamp- 
ed on the batiks of the Hudson near Saratoga. Here 
his progress was checked by the Americans under. 
General Gates J. and after two severe actions, he was 

fore- 



350 WASHINGTON. 

forced to surrender on the 1 7th. of October, 1777.— 
This event diffused an universal joy throughout the 
United States. The European nations, and France 
in particular, who, from prejudice or envy, had so 
long been desirous of the downfal of British grandeur, 
received this news with open exultation. Indeed, se- 
veral individuals in France had exerted themselves 
in favour of the Americans. A number of brave and 
experienced officers of the Irish brigade, volunteered 
in the cause of the British colonies against their pa- 
rent state ; and even some of the young nobility of 
France were emulous to distinguish themselves on this 
occasion. The most conspicuous of these, were the 
Marquis de la Fayette ;* Roche du Fermoy, who 
served in the army that acted against General Bur- 
goyne; De Coudray, a French officer of rank; and 
Ba^ron St. Ovary. 

By the assistance of these auxiliaries, the Ameri- 
cans daily improved in discipline, and the successful 
close of the campaign on the frontiers, cheered them 
with the most pleasing expectations respecting the 
issue of the war. 

On the 6th of February, 1 778, a- treaty of alliance 
between France and America was signed by the con- 
tracting parties. Washington appointed a day for the 
whole army to celebrate this- event, and it was observ- 
ed with the greatest military pomp. 

In May, General Howe took his departure for Eng- 
land, and the chief command of the British army de- 
volved oa Sir Henry Clinton^ 

The 

* Perliaps^no biographical hiftory of mcdcrn days wouM be 
more curious than an impartial one of M. la Fayette — his ge- 
nerous exertions in the caufe of America — the confpic'jous fi- 
gure he made in the begiiining of the French Revolution — 
. his cruel imprifonment by the Emperor, and the ingratitude of 
his ov.n countrymen — would altogether form a moft intereli- 
ing and inftructive narrative, founded on extraordinary facts 
and circumftances within our memory, and almofl,. witliia our 
ewn obfervation. 



WASHINGTON. 331 

The Englisb Commissioners, appointed by the Brit* 
ish Ministry to attempt a reconciliation with the Colo- 
nies, arrived at New-York in the beginning of June, 
but before they could receive an answer from Con- 
gress, General Clinton evacuated Philadelphia, after 
the British army had kept possession of it for nine 
months. This event took place on the 18th of June, 
and it was considered by the Americans as the har- 
binger of their Independence. They asserted, thac 
the strength of Britain was broken on the American 
continent, and that the army retreated towards the sea-, 
to be in readiness to embark, if the exigencies of Bri- 
tain required its assistance. 

The British aniiy marched out of Philadelphia at 3 
o'clock in the morning, and crossed the Delaware be* 
fore noon, with all its baggage. 

Washington had been apprized of this movement, 
and dispatched expresses into the Jersies to collect 
troops. He passed the Delaware with the main body 
of his army,, and was hourly joined by reinforcements 
of regular troops and militia. 

General Clinton retreated across the country towards 
Sandy Hook, whence a passage to New York might 
be easily effected. In the mean time, Washington 
pursued the British army ; he sent the Marquis de la 
Fayette with a detachment of chosen troops to harass 
the rear of the enemy ; General Lee, who had been 
lately exchanged, followed with a division to support 
him; and Washington himself moved with the main 
body to sustain the whole.. 

On the 27th of June, the British army encamped 
in a sti-ong position, at Monmouth, near Freehold ; 
and, on the morning of tlje 28th, the van division of 
the Americans under General Lee, commenced the 
attack by a severe cannonade ; but Sir Henry Clinton, 
had made such judicious arangements of his troops, 
that the enemy were unable to make any impression, 
qn. his rear.. 



j^z WASHINGTON. 

TheBritish grenadiers and light infantry^ engpaged the 
Americans with such vigour, that their iirst line, com- 
manded by General Lee, was completely broken; 
their second line was also defeated; they both rallied 
however, and posted themselves with a morass in 
their front. They were again charged by the 
British troops, and were with difficulty preserved 
from a total defeat by the junction of their main body 
under Washington, 

In this action the bravery and discipline of the Bri- 
tish troops were conspicuous. They had forced an e- 
Jlemy superior in. number from two strong positions, 
and had endured excessive fatigue both from the in- 
tense heat of the day and unremitting toil. The loss 
of the ix>yal army was about 500 men, and that of the 
Americans was considerable. 

General Lee^ who commanded the van division of 
the American anny in the action at Monmouth, was, 
in consequence of his misconduct, put under arrest, 
tried* by a Court-martial, and sentenced to a tempora- 
ry, suspension fnom his command. 

Washington, after- the retreat of the British army, 
march'jd to White Plains, near King's-Bridge, where 
he encamped. He remained in this position till the 
latter end of autumn, when he retired to Middle-brook, 
in Jersey.. Here his army erected huts, similar to 
those they had made at Valley-Forge, and went into 
winter-quarters. 

In May, 1779, General Clinton sent a division of 
the British army totake Stoney-Point, a strong fort on 
the western side of the North-River. This expedi- 
tion was succes8ful,as.the distance at which Washington 
lay with his army prevented him from giving any as^ 
sistance to the garrison. The British General forti- 
fied Stoney-PoInt in the strongest manner, and en- 
camped at Philipsburg, half-way between tliat fortress 
and New-YorkV to be in readiness to compel Wash- 
ington to an engagement, if he should leave, his sta- 
tion in. Jersey*. 

In 



WASHINGTON. 353 

In order to counteract these operations, Washing- 
ton advanced towards the British army. He took a 
strong position at West-Point, on the banks of the 
Norih-River, and formed a design to recover Stoney- 
Point by surprize. He sent General Wayne, one of 
the most intrepid officers in his army, to conduct thi* 
enterprize. Wayne, at the head of a detachment of 
chosen men, arrived in the evening of the 15th of Ju- 
ly vrithin sight of Stoney-Point. He formed his men 
into two columns, with orders to use the bayonet on- 
ly. The right column was commanded by himself in 
person, the left by Major Stewart, a bold and active 
officer. At midnight, the two columns marched to 
the attack, from the opposite sides of the works,which 
were surrounded with a morass and two rows of abba- 
tis, well provided with artillery. The Americans 
were opposed by a tremendous fire of musketry 
and grape-shot, but they pressed forward with the 
bayonet, and both columns met in the centre of the 
works, where the garrison, amounting to 500 men, 
were obliged to surrender prisoners of war. 

When the British General received intelligence of 
the surprize of Stoney-Point, he marched with his ar- 
my to retake it, and as Washington did not consider 
the possession of that fortress of sufficient import- 
ance to risk a general action, he demolished the 
works, and carried off the artillery. 

Towards the end of the year 1779, General Clin- 
ton sailed from New-York, with a considerable body 
of troops, to attack Charleston, South Carolina, where 
General Lincoln commanded. After a close siege of 
6 weeks, the town was surrendered to the British Ge- 
neral, and the whole American garrison made prison- 
ers. In August, 1780, Lord Cornwallis defeated thfr 
Americans, under General Gates, at Camden in 
South Carolina, and he afterwards marched thro' the 
Southern States without opposition. 

During the summer of 1780, the British troops 
made frequent incursions from New- York into the 
Jerseys, and an unsuccessful attempt was made by 

Ge- 



SU WASHINGTON, 

Geiieral Knyphausen with 7000 men, to surprize the 
advanced posts of Washington's army. So great were 
the necessities of the American army, that Washing- 
ton was obliged to call on the magistrates of the ad- 
jacent counties for specified quantities of provisions; 
nay, he was sametimes compelled to send detach- 
ments of his troops to take necessaries at the point of 
the bayonet from the citizens. This scarcity was 
principally owing to the depreciation of the paper cur- 
rency, which discouraged the farmers from selling 
their provisions to the army. The situation of Wash- 
ington was peculiarly embarrassing — the army looked 
to him for necessaries, and the people for the protec- 
tion of their property. His prudence surmounted 
these diiaculiies, and Congress sent a Committee of 
their own body to his camp, to concert measures for 
the payment and supply of the troops. As the at- 
tempt of the British army against W^ashingtcn had 
made no impression of any consequence, the Ameri- 
cans began to recover from the alarm which the loss cf 
Charleston had excited. Warm exhortations were 
made to the people by Congress, in which they were 
called upon by every motive that could animate them 
to act witb spirit and promptitude against Great Bri- 
tain. 

In the mean time, Sir Henry Clinton returned with 
his victorious armv from Charleston : and General 
Arnold, who had been entrusted with the command 
of a very considerable division of the American army 
at W^est-Point, agreed to deliver up that important 
ix)st to the British General. As Washington had set 
out for Hartford to hold a conference with Count de 
Rochambeau, the negociation between Sir Henry 
Clinton and Arnold was carried on with 'greater facili- 
ty during his absence. The agent employed by the 
Britisli General w^as Major Andre, a young officer of 
uncommon merit. To favour the necessary commu- 
nications, the Vulture sloop of war had been previ- 
ously stationed in the North-River, and a boat was 
sent at night from the shore to fetch Major Andre.—- 

When 



WASHINGTON. 355; 

When he had received such instructions as related to 
his business, he set out on his return, but was inter- 
cepted, and all his papers seized. Arnold escaped on 
board the Vulture, but Major Andre was brought be- 
fore a board of general Oliicers, by whom he was con- 
sidered as a spy, and sentenced to death. The offi- 
cers who signed the condemnation of Andre, and even 
Washington himself, testified the sincerest grief at 
the necessity they declared themselves under of com- 
plying with the rigorous laws established in such cases. 

At the close of the year 1780, the American army 
felt the rigour of the season with peculiar circum- 
stances of aggravation by want of pay, clothing, Sec. 
The troops had been enlisted for 3 years, which were 
now expired, and, incensed at so long a continuance 
of hardships, an insurrection broke out in the Penn- 
sylvania line, which was followed by that of New Jer- 
sey. The complaints of these soldiers being well 
founded, were redressed, and a general amnesty clos- 
ed the business. That part of the American army 
which was under the command of Washington, did 
not escape the contagion of revolt. He prudently re- 
mained in his quarters, where his presence, and the 
respect and aflection for his person, tho' it did not 
prevent murmurs, kept his men within bounds, and 
prevented a mutiny. 

The campaign of 1781, was opened with great vi- 
gour by the British army in Carolina. After several 
skirmishes with various success, the two armies un- 
der Lord Cornwallis and G-eneral Greene, met at 
Guildford, on the 15th of March 1781, and after a 
well contested action, the British remained masteis of 
the field. Lord Cornwallis afterwards marched into 
Virginia, where notwithstanding the advantages he 
gained over the Americans, his situation became ve- 
ry critical. Sir Henry Clinton was prevented from 
sending him reinforcements, as he was apprehensive 
that Washington intended to attack New York. The 
American Commander in Chief employed great fi- 
nesse to deceive the British general, and by a variety 

of 



556 WASHINGTON. 

of judicious manoeuvres, kept him in continual alarm. 
—In the mean time, I^ord Cornwallis took possession 
of York Town, in Viiji^inia, and he was followed by 
the Marquis de la Fayette, who had been dispatched 
by Washington with 2000 light infantry to watch the 
motions of the British army. 

On the 30th of August, Count dc Grasse anchored 
in Chesapeak Bay, with 24 ships of the line. He 
landed troops to co-operate with Washington, who 
had moved with the main body of his army to the 
southward, and when he heard of the arrival of the 
French fleet in the Chesapeak, he proceeded by forced 
marches to the head of Elk, which he crossed and 
proceeded to York Town. 

Washington now invested York Town, with an ar- 
my of 15,000 Americans, and 9000 French. He had 
selected his best trooops for this important occasion, 
and the French were chosen out of the bravest corps 
in France. 

The French and American batteries mounted with 
50 pieces of cannon, were opened against York Town 
on the night of the 6th of October, and an incessant 
fire was kept up till the 14-th, when two detachments 
of the besiegers attacked and stormed two redoubts in 
front of the British works. The besieged were now 
so reduced by sickness, and the accidents of war, that 
they amounted only to 5,600 effective men. Mean- 
while, Sir Henry Clinton selected 7000 of his best 
troops, which he embarked at New York, on board 
the British fleet, with a determination to succour the 
army under Lord Cornwallis ; but the garrison at 
York Town having persevered to the utmost extremi- 
ty, and no prospect of relief appearing, a negociation 
was opened with Washington, and the troops and sea- 
men were obliged to surrender themselves prisoners 
of war. Thus terminated the decisive campaign of 
1780, which realised American Independence. 

Soon after the capture of Lord Cornwallis, the Brit- 
ish armament appeared off* the Chesapeake, in the 
Jatter end of October, but to their mortification, they 

were 



^ 



WASHINGTON, 35^ 

were apprized that the army under Lord Cornwallis 
had surrendered. 

Washintj^ton felt all the honest exultation of a pa* 
triot at this event. The orders published in his camp, 
on the 20th of October, were strongly expressive of 
his satisfaction. He congratulated the officers and 
soldiers of the combined armies on their success, and 
issued a general pardon to all persons in the Conti- 
nental army who were under arrest, " that every heart 
might partake of the general joy." Nor did he omit 
what he knew would be peculiarly acceptable to the 
religious turn of many of his countrymen. His or- 
ders concluded with a particular injunction, " That a 
thanksgiving service should be performed," at which 
it was solemnly recommended to the troops to assist 
with that seriousness and sensibility of heart which 
the surprizing interposition of Providence in their fa- 
vour so justly claimed. 

Washington was solicitous that the prisoners of war 
should be well treated. By his orders, they were dis- 
tributed in the provinces of Virginia, Maryland, and 
Pennsylvania, and their allowance was the same as 
that of the American army. 

Congress voted an address of thanks to Washing- 
ton, Count Rochambeau, Count de Grasse, and all the 
officers and soldiers of the combined armies, for the 
services they had performed. They also resolved, 
" That, in remembrance of the surrender of the Brit- 
ish army, a marble column should be erected at York- 
Town, Virginia, adorned with emblems of the alli- 
ance between France and the United States of Ameri- 
ca, and inscribed with a succinct account of the me- 
morable event it was intended to commemorate," 

Washington now returned with the principal part 
of his army to the vicinity ot New- York, where, as 
he was unable to reduce that city, he went into winter 
quarters. The only appearances of an existing war 
were some skirmishes and predatory excursions. 

On the 5th of May, 1782, Sir Guy Carletoil 
arrived at New- York, being appointed to command 

tlie 



35^ WASHINGTON. 

the British army in America. Immediately on his 
arrival, he acquainted Washington and Congress, that 
negociations for a peace had been commenced at Pa- 
ris. Meanwhile, the Bmish troops evacuated all their 
posts in South Carolina and Georgia, and retired to 
the main army at New-York. 

Preliminary articles of peace were signed at Paris 
on the 30th of November, 1782, by Mr. Fitzherbert 
andiMr. Oswald, on the part of Great Britain, and, 
by Dr. Franklin, IVIr. Adams, Mr. Jay, and Mr. Law- 
rens, on the part of the United States. By this trea- 
ty his Majesty acknowledged the Thirteen United Co- 
lonies to be ''■ free, sovereign and independentStates." 

As military operations were now entirely suspended, 
it was no longer necessary to keep the American army 
embodied. The States, however, were unable to 
pay them the arrears due for their inestimable ser- 
vices, and those men who had spent the prime of 
iheir days in defence of their country, were now to 
be dismissed without a reward. 

An attempt was made by anonymous papers to in- 
cite the officers and soldiers to revolt. Washington, 
who was then in the camp, saw the danger, and ex- 
erted his influence to prevent it. At a meeting of 
the general and field officers, with one officer from 
each company, the Commander in Chief addressed 
them in a pathetic speech, in which he conjured, them 
-<' as they valued their honour, as they respected the 
rights of humanity, and as they regarded the military 
^nd national character of America, tc express their 
utmost detestation of the man who was attempting to 
open the flood-gates of civil discord, and deluge their 
rising empire with blood." Wasliington then retired. 
The officers, softened by the eloquence of their belov- 
ed commander, entered into a resolution, by which 
they declared, " that no circumstance of distress or 
danger should induce a conduct that might tend to sul- 
ly the reputation and glory they had acquired j that 
the army continued to have an unshaken conlidence 
in the justice of Congress and their Country, and that 

they 



WASHINGTON. 359 

they viewed wilh abhorrence, and rejected with dis- 
dain, the infamous propositions in the late anonymous 
address to the officers of the army. 

The fortitude and patriotism of Washington were 
in no instance of more essential service to .^rneri a, 
than on this momentous occasion. Instead of mak- 
ing the discontent of the army instrumental to liis 
own ambition, and usurping the government, this mag- 
nanimous patriot soothed the passions of his soldiers, 
and preserved inviolate the liberties of his country. 

Towards the close of the year 1783, Congress is- 
sued a proclamation, in which the armies of the Unit- 
ed States were applauded for their " long, eminent, 
and faithful services." Congress then declared it to 
be their pleasure, " that such part of theirFederal ai'- 
mies as stood engaged to serve during the war, should, 
from and after the 3d day of November next, be ab- 
solutely discharged from the said service." 

WashinsTton's " Forcwel Orders to. the Armies of 
the United States," dated Rocky-Hill, near Prince- 
ton, 2d Nov. 1783, is a pathetic exhortation, in which 
the disinterestedness of the Patriot is blended with the 
Avisdom of the Philosopher. — It contains the following 
interesting and impressive passages ; 

" It only remains for the Commander in Chief to 
address himself once more, and for the last time, to 
the armies of the United States, and to bid them an 
aiTectionate — a long farewel. 

" It is universally acknowledged, that the enlarged 
.prospects of happiness opened by the establishment 
of our Independence, almost exceed the power of 
desci-iption ; and shall not the brave men who have 
contribuied so essentially to this inestimable acquisi- 
tion,, retiring victorious from the field of war to the 
field of agriculture, participate in all the blessings which 
have been obtained? — In such a Republic, who wijl 
exclude them from the rights of citizens, and the 
fruits of their labours? — To these hardy soldiers who 
are actuated by the spirit of adventure, the iisheries 
win afford ample and profitable employments ;. and 

the 



36o WASHINGTON. 

the fertile regions of the West will yield a most hap* 
py asylum to those who, fond of domestic enjoyment, 
are seeking for personal independence. 

" The Commander in Chief conceives little is now 
wanting to enable the soldiers to change the military 
character into that of the Citizen ; but that steady and 
decent tenour of behaviour^ which has generally dis- 
tinguished not only the army under his immediate 
command, but the different detachments and separate 
armies, thro* the course of the war — from their good 
sense and prudence, he anticipates the happiest conse- 
quences ; — and, while he congratulates them on the 
glorious occasion which renders their services in the 
field no longer necessary, he wishes to express the 
strong obligations he feels himself under, for the as- 
sistance he has received from every class, and in eve- 
ry instance. To the various branches of the army, 
the General takes this last and solemn opportunity of 
professing his inviolable attachment and friendship- 
He wislies more than bare professions were in his 
•power — that he was really able to be useful to them 
in future life. And being now to conclude these his 
last public orders, to take his ultimate leave, in a short 
time, of the military character, and to bid a final adieu 
to the armies he has so long had the honour to com- 
mand, he can only again offer, in their behalf, his re- 
commendations to their grateful Country, and his 
prayers to the God of Armies. May ample justice be 
done them here, and may the choicest of Heaven's 
favours, both here and hereafter, attend those who, 
under the Divine auspices, have secured innumerable 
blessings for others ! — With these wishes, and this 
benediction, the Commander in Chief is about to re- 
tire from service. The curtain of separation will soon 
be drawn, and the military scene, to him, will be clos- 
ed for ever." 

To this address, the army that remained at West- 
Point, on the banks of the Hudson, sent a most re-^ 
spectful and affectionate answer. After returning 
Uianks to their General, for his exertions in their fa- 
vour, 



WASHINGTON'. 361 

Voyr, they express their feeUngs in the feKowhig bold 
and figurative language : 

" Regardless of present sufferings, we looked forward 
to the end of our toils and dangers, to brighter scenes 
in prospect. There we beheld the genius of our 
Country, dignified by our Sovereignty and Indepen- 
■dence, supported by Justice, and adorned with every 
liberal Virtue. There we saw patient Husbandry 
fearless extend her cultured fields, and animated Com- 
merce spread her sails to every wind. There we be- 
held fair Science lift her head, with all the Arts attend- 
ing in her train. There, blest with Freedom, we saw 
the human Mind expand^ and throwing asid^ the re- 
straints which confined it to the narrow bounds of coun- 
try, it embraced the world. Those animating prospects 
are novs'' changing to realities, and actively to have 
contributed to their production, is our pride,our glory." 

New- York was evacuated by the British troops a- 
bout 3 weeks after the discharge of the American ar- 
my. Meanwhile, Washington, having finished the 
great work of the Revolution, and founded a Repub- 
lic, he wished to retire from the eye of observation 
to the peaceful rural shades of his patrimonial inhe- 
ritance. Accordingly, he took leave of his officers in 
the most solemn manner. Having been previously 
assembled for that purpose, Washington joined thenij 
and, calling for a glass of wine, addressed them in 
the following words : <* With a heart full of love and 
gratitude, I now take leave of you : — I most devoutly 
wish that your latter days may be as prosperous and 
happy, as your former ones have been glorious and 
honourable." The officers were deeply afrected ;— 
they came up to him successively, and he took an af- 
fectionate leave of each. He then left the room, and 
passed between the ranks of a corps of light infantry, 
that lined his way to the side of the North-River.—. 
The officers followed him in a solemn^ilent trains 
— their eyes were suTused with tears. They felt a 
strong emotion of regret at parting with a hero wh.o 
had participated their dangers, and so often led ihem 

R to 



362 WASHINGTON. 

to glory. When Washington entered the barge, he 
turned towards his fellow-soldiers, with a countenance 
expressive of his feelings, and waved liis hat as a last 
adieu. 

He proceeded to Annapolis, to resign his commis- 
sion to Congress, and was accompanied by his ne- 
phew, Major George Washington, and Colonel Hum- 
phreys, his aid-de-camp. His progress was marked 
by public rejoicings ; triumphal arches were erected at 
the entrance of every town and village thro' which he 
passed. A nvmiber of beautiful young virgins, robed 
in white, met him with songs of gratulation — they 
strewed laurels before the benign hero, who moved 
slov» ly along, on a white charger. The name of Wash- 
ington excited an universal emotion. Women and 
children thronged the doors and windows, eager to be- 
ho\d ti.e Deliverer of their Country — bands of music 
filled the air with sprightly melody, while the men, 
who had fought under the banners of Liberty, hailed 
their General with acclamations. Washington receiv- 
ed this tribute of public gratitude witb his character- 
istic benignity, while his bosom participated the ge- 
neral happiness. 

On his arrival at Annapolis, he informed Congress 
of his intended resignation ;• — they resolved it should 
be in a public audience, and on the day appointed, 
numbers of distinguished persons attended, to behold 
the interesting scene. Cieneral Washington address- 
ed the President in the following words: 
<' Mv. President, 

" The great events on which my resignation de- 
pended, having at length taken place, I have now the 
honour of otTering my sincere congratulations to Con- 
gress, and of presenting myself before them to sur- 
render into their hands the trust committed to me, and 
to claim the indulgence of retiring from the service 
of my country. 

" Ilappy in the confirmation of our Independence 
and Sovereignty, and pleased with the opportunity af- 
forded the United States of becoming a respectable 

na- 



Wx^SHINGtON, 3*3 

nation, I resign with satisfaction, the appointment 1 
accepted with diffidence ; a diffidence in my abilities 
to accomplish so arduous a task, v/hich, however, 
was superceded by a confidence in the rectitude of our 
cause, the support of the Supreme Power of the 
Union, and the patronage of Heaven. 

*> The successful termination of the war has veri- 
fied the most sanguine expectations, and my gratitude 
for the interposition of Providence, and the assistance 
I have received from my countrymen, increases with 
with every review of the momentous contest. 

*' While I repeat my obligations to the army in g'e- 
neral, I should do injustice to my own feelings, not 
to acknowledge, in this place, the peculiar services and 
distinguished merits of the persons who had been at- 
tached to my person during the war : It was impossi- 
ble the choice of confidential officers to compose my 
family should have been more fortunate ; permit me, 
Sir, to recommend, in particular, those wh^b have con» 
tinned in the service to the present moment, as worthy 
of the favourable notice and patronage of Congress. 

" I consider it as my indispensible duty to close 
this last solemn ret of my official life, by commending 
the interests of our dearest country to the protection 
of Almighty God, and those who have the superinten- 
dence of them to his holy keeping. 

" Having now finished the work assigned me, I re- 
tire from the great theatre of action, and bidding an 
affectionate farewel to this august body, under whose 
orders I have long acted, I here offer my commission, 
and take my leave of all the employments of public 
life." 

To this the President returned the following an- 
swer : 

" The United States in Congress assembled, re- 
ceive with emotions too affecting for utterance, the so- 
lemn resignation of the authorities under which you 
have led their troops with success, through a perilous 
and doubtful war. 



S&4 WASHINGTON. 

*■ 

" Called Upon by your Country to defend its invad- 
ed rights, yoa had accepted the sacred charge before 
it had formed alliances, and whilst it was without 
friends or a government to support her. 
' " \ou have conducted the great military contest 
with wisdom and fortitude, invariably regarding the 
rights of the civil power through all disasters and 
changes. You have, by the love and confidence of 
your fellow-citizens, enabled them to display their 
martial genius and transmit their fame to posterity. — 
Having defended the standard of Liberty in this new 
world, having taught a lesson useful to those who re- 
flect, and to those who feel oppression, you retire from 
the great theatre of action with the blessing of youp 
fellow-citizens ; but the glory of your virtues will not 
terminate with your military command — it will conti- 
nue to animate remotest ages." 

Washington now hastened to Mount Vernon, 
where he%as welcomed by his atlectionate consort, 
neighbours and domestics, with every demonstration 
of joy ; and. divesting himself of the military robe, 
he once more assumed the plain garb of the farmer. 

Agriculture was his favourite pursuit — His estate at 
Mount Vernon particularly engaged his attention, and 
was productive of large cjuantities of wheat, Indian 
corn, potatoes, and flax, besides flocks of sheep and 
herds of cuttle. — His life was regulated by temperance ; 
lie rose early, and after spending the day in a variety 
of rural pursuits, he retired to rest about nine o'clock. 
This was his invariable rule, except when visitors re- 
Cjuired his polite attention. His table was spread with 
the most wholesome viands and pure wines, but he 
commonly dined on a single dish, which, with a few 
glasses of wine, formed his repast. He liberally pa- 
tronized an academy at Alexandria, encouraged the 
interior navigation of thePotomack ; he was the bene- 
factor of the poor, and, in short, like the sun to vege- 
tation, his cheering influence and example promoted 
the happiness of society where he resided. 

In these peaceful scenes, Washington enjoyed the 
rational delights of rural life from the year 1783, till 



WASHINGTON. 36^ 

the summer of 1787, when he was chosen President 
of the Convention, which met at Philadelphia, and 
framed the present Constitution of the United States. 
The Federal Union, after eleven years experience, 
had been found inadequate to the purposes of govern* 
vernment. " The funcamental distinction between 
the Articles of Confederation and the riew Constitu- 
tion, lies in this ; the former acted only on States, 
the latter on individuals; — the former could neither 
raise men or money by its own authority, but lay at 
the discretion of 13 diHerent Legislatures, and, with- 
out their unanimous concurrence, was unable to pro- 
vide for the public safety, or for the payment of the 
national debt. By the new Constitution, one Ligisla- 
tive. Executive, and Judicial power pervades the whole 
Union." After a full consideration, and thorough dis- 
cussion of its principles, it was ratified by 11 of the 
13 States, and North Carolina and Rhode Island have 
since given their concurrence. 

The new Constitution being thus adopted, Wash- 
ington was chosen President in April. 1789, by the 
unanimous vote of his countrymen. When he re- 
ceived intelligence of his election, he set out from 
Mount Vernon for New-York. He was es( orted by 
the militia and gentlemen of the first character from 
State to State, and numerous addresses of congratu- 
lation were presented to him by the inhabitants of the 
towns thro' which he passed. On his approach to 
Philadelphia, he was met by above 20,000 citizens, 
who conducted him to the city, where an elegant en- 
tertainment was prepared for him. 

His progress from Philadelphia to New-York is thus 
described by an elegant writer, and presents an ani- 
mated picture of public gratitude. " AYhen Mr. 
Washington crossed the Delaware, and landed on the 
Jersey shore, he was saluted with 3 cheers by the in- 
ha!)itants of the vicinity. When he came to the brow 
of the hill, on his way to Trenton, a triumphal arch 
was erected on the bridge, by the direction of the la- 
dies of the place. The crown of the arch wa'j highly 

onia- 



366 WASHINGTON. 

ornamented with imperial laurels and flowers-, and on, 
it was displayed, in large figures, " December 2.6th, 
1776." On the sweep of the arch, was this inscrip- 
tion, " The Defender of the Mothers will also pro- 
tect their Daughters." On the north side were ranged 
a number of young girls, dressed in white, with gar- 
lands of ilowers on their heads, and baskets of flow- 
ers on their arms — in the second row stood the young 
ladies, and behind them the married ladies of the 
town. The instant he passed the arch, the young 
girls began to sing the following ode : 

" Welcome, mighty Chief, once more, 
•' Welcome to this gi-ateful shore : — 
♦' Now no mercenary foe 
•' Aims, again, the fatal blow-^. 
*♦ Aims at thee the fatal blow. 

*' Virgins fair, and matrons grave, 
" Thefe thy conq'ring arm did fave, 
'* Build for thee triumphant bov ei'S ; 
*' Strew ye fair, his way with flowers, 
*' Strew your Hero's way with flowers." 

" As they sung the last lines, they strewed their 
flowers on the road before their beloved Deliverer. — 
His situation, on this occasion, contrasted with what 
lie had, hi December 1776, felt on the same spot, 
when the affairs of America were at the lowest ebb of 
depression, filled him with sensations that cannot be 
described. He was rowed across the bay from Eliza- 
beth-Tovi'ii to New-York, in an elegant barge, by 13 
pilots. All the vessels in the harbour hoisted their 
flags. On his landing, universal joy diliused itself 
thro* every order of the people, and he was received 
and congratulated by the Governor of the State and 
odicers of the Corporation. In the evening, the hous-. 
es of the inhabitants were brilliantly illuminated." 

On the 30th of April he was inaugurated President 
of the United States, and took the oath enjoined by 
the Constitution, in the following words, '* I do so- 
lemnly swear, that I will faithfully execute the oflice 
of President of th.e United States, and will, to the best 



WASHINGTON. 367 

of my ability, protect and defend the Constitution of 
the United States." An universal and solemn silence 
prevailed among; the spectators during this part of the 
ceremony. The Chancellor then proclaimed him Pre- 
sident of the United States, and was answered by the 
discharge of cannon and the acclamations of 20,000 ci- 
tizens. 

Soon after his appointment to the Chief Magistracy, 
he visited the Eastern States, with a view to promote 
agriculture, and explore the means of national im- 
provement. The French Revolution, which has ex- 
cited the attention of mankind, proved a severe test to 
the prudence of Washington. Tho' he secretly dis- 
approved of the violent measures of the French Repub- 
lic, yet he saw that it was necessary for America to 
preserve a mutual good understanding with that nation. 

Washington was twice elected President, and during 
his 8 yeai s administration, he performed the duties of 
his arduous office valh all the zeal of an honest patri- 
ot. — After having spent 45 years of his life hi the ser- 
vice of his country, he, in September, 1796, announ- 
ced his determination to retire, in an address*, ex- 
pressive of his gratitude and atlection. 

Washington once more retired to his favourite seat, 
with the hope of devoting the remainder of his days 
to the calm duties of domestic life. From March, 
1797, to Ju'y 1798, he enjoyed the pleasures arising 
from the practice of virtue. The aggressions of 
France now alarmed Mr. Adams's administration, and 
that they might be prepared to resist open hostility, 
they found it expedient to embody their army. Con- 
vinced of the abilities and integrity of that venerable 
man, whose valour had been instrumental to the eman- 
cipation of his country. Congress appointed Washing- 
ton Commander in Chief the Armies. He accepted 
the appointment, and his letter to the President on 
that occasion, is marked with that perspicuity which 
distinguishes ail his writings. 

But 

* We recommend this Addrcfs to the attentive pevufal of 
every citizen of America. 



368 WASHINGTON, 

But the moment now approached in which this il- 
lustrious character was to be removed to another state 
of existence. On the 12th of December, 1799, he 
rode out to one of his plantations, and the day being 
rainy he caught cold, which brought on an mtlam- 
raatory sore throat. This disease became alarming 
on Friday, and when his physician arrived on Satur- 
day morning, medical aid was inefficacious. A few 
rninuies before he expired, he enquired, " Doctor, 
how long am I to remain in this situation ?" — The 
physician replied, '• Not long, Sir." 

A Gentleman, who was present at Mount Vernon, 
has furnished us with the following particulars relative 
to the death of General Washington : — 

" The General, a little before his death, had begun 
several improvements on his farm. Attending to 
some of these, he probably caught his death. He 
had in contemplation a gravel walk on the banks of 
the Potomack; between the walk and the river there 
was to be a fish pond. Some trees were to be cut 
down, and others preserved. On Friday the day be- 
fore he died, he spent some time by the side of the 
river marking the formen There came a fall of snov/', 
which did not deter him from his pursuit, but he con- 
tinued tin his neck and hair were quite covered with 
snow. He spent the evening with Mrs. Washington, 
reading the news-papers, which came by the mail 
that evening- ; he went to bed as usual about 9 o'clock,* 
waked up in the night, and found himself extremely 
unwell, but would not allow Mrs. Washington to get 
up, or the servants to be waked. In the morning, 
finding himself very ill. Dr. Craik of Alexandria, was 
sent for. — Soon after his arrival, two consulting 
physicians were called in, but all would not avail. On 
Saturday he died. He said to Col. Lear a litlle be- 
fore his dea.th, " bury me decently, and not till two 
days afte;' my decease." — To Dr. Craik he said, " I 
die a very hard death, but I am not afraid to die."— - 
Before he breathed his last, he laid himself on his 
back, placed his hands before him, and closed his owfti 
mouth and eyes," 



WASHINGTON. 3^9 

Philadelphia^ Dec, 19. 

On Saturday tne 14th iiist. died at his seat in Vir- 
ginia, General George Washington, Commander in 
Chief of the Armies, and late President of the Con- 
gress, of the United States of America — mature in 
years, covered with glory, and rich in the affections 
of a free people, and t±ie admiration of the -svhole ci- 
vilized world. 

When men of common character are swept from 
the theatre of life, they die without the tribute of 
public concern, as they had lived without a claim to 
public esteem — But- when Personages of great and 
exalted worth, are summoned from this sublunary 
scene, their death calls forth a burst of general regret, 
and invigorates thefiame of public gratitude — In obedi- 
ence therefore to the voice of their Country, the Po- 
et, the Oriitor, and the Historian, will combine to do 
justice to the character of this illustrious Patriot ; 
whilst the ingenious labours of the Sculptor, the Sta- 
tuary, and the Painter, will unite hi perpetuating the 
virtues of The Man of* the Age. 

Mourn, Columbia, mourn! — Thy Father and Pro- 
tector is no more ! — Mourn Reader, of whatever kin- 
dred, tongue, or clime thou be, ihy Friend, the Friend 
of Man and of Liberty, is gone I — The Hero, the 
Sage, the Patriot, this glorious emanation of the Dei- 
ty, is carried back to the bosom ot his God !-r-The 
recording Angel has enregistered his virtuous deeds in 
-Heaven, and the name of WASFHXGTON will li\c 
for ever I 

Alexandria, Dec^ 20 
On Wednesday last the mortal part of Washington' 
THE Great — the Father of his Comitry, and the 
Friend of Man — was consigned to the silent tomb 
with solemn honours and funeral pomp. 

A multitude of people, fixDm many miles round, as- 
sem!)led at Mount Vernon, the choice abode, and last.-, 
earthly residence of its illustrious Chief. There ^^ e!'e 
the groves, the spacious avenues, the beautif^F scen- 
ery, the noble mansion — but alas ! its au.r^ust inhabi- 
tant was gone I — hib body indeed, was,.-€ncre, buthis 
soul was fled i N 2 _ 



370 



WASHINGTON. 



In the long and lofty portico, where oft the Hero 
walked in all his virtuous glory, now lay the shrouded 
corpse.— -The countenance, still coniposed and serene, 
seemed to express the dignity of that spirit which so 
lately actuated the lifeless form — There, those who 
paid the last sad honours to the Benefactor of his 
Country, took a last — a sad farewell. 

Near the head of the coffin, were inscribed the 
words Surge ad Judicium ;: about the middle, Gloria Deo; 
and, on the silver plate. General George Washington 
deiiarted this Life Uth Dec, Mtat 68. 

Between 3 and 4 o'clock, the sound of artillery 
from a vessel m the river firing minute guns, aroused 
all our sorrowful feelings — the body was moved, and 
a band of music with mournful melody, melted the 
soul into all the tenderness of woe. — The procession 
marched in the following order : 

Cavalry, Infantry, and Guard with arms reverfed ; 

Clergy ; Mufic ; 

The General's horfe, with his faddle, holfters, and piftols ; 

Col. Gilpin, 

Marfteller» 

Little ; 



i 



Col. Simms, 
Ramfay, 
Payae, 



11} 



W 
Mourners ; 

Mafonic Brethren ; 

And Citizens.. 



When the procession arrived at the bottom of the 
lawn on the banks of the Potomack, where the family 
vault is placed, the Cavalry halted, and the Infantry 
marched towards tlie mount and formed in lines ; the 
Clergy, th.e Masonic Brethren, and t-he Citizens, de- 
scended to the vault, where the Church funeral ser- 
vice was performed. 

Three general discharges by the artillery, cavalry, 
and infantry, paid the last tribute of respect to the en- 
tombed Commander in Chief of the American Ar- 



mies. 



The Sun was now setting — Alas, the Son of Glory 
was set— No, the name of Washington will live for. 
ever ♦,. 



WASHINGTON, 371 

From Vernon's Mount behold the Hero rife 
Refplendent Forms attend him thro' tlie fkies! 
The fliades of war-worn Veterans round him throng, 
And lead enwrap'd their honoured Chief along. 
A laurel wreath the immortal Warren bears. 
An arch triumphal Mercer's^ hand prepares ; 
Young Lawrence, eril th' avenging bolt of war. 
With port majeflic, guides the glittering car ; 
Montgomery's godlike form directs the way. 
And Green imfolds the gates of endlefs day ; 
Whilft Angels, " trumpet tongu'd," proclaim thro' air, 
*• Due Honours for The First or Men prepare!" 



PROCEEDIJ^GS IN COATGRESS. 

House of Representatives. 
Thursday Z)ec. 19, 1799. 

Mr. Marshall addressed the Chair as follows : 

" Mr. Speaker — The melancholy event which was 
yesterday announced with doubt, has been rendered but 
too certain. Our Washington is no more ! — The hero, 
the sage, and the patriot of America — the man on whom 
in times of danger, every eye was turned, and all hopes 
"Were placed, lives now, only in his own great actions, and 
in the hearts of an affectionate and an afflicted people. 

" If, Sir, it had even not been usual, openly to tes- 
tify respect for the memory of those whom Heaven 
had selected as its instruments for dispensing good ta 
men, yet, such has been the uncommon worth, and 
such the extraordinary incidents, which have marked 
the life of him, wlK)se loss we all deplore, that the 
whole American nation, impelled by the same feelings, 
would call with one voice, for a public manifestation 
of that sorrow which is so deep and so universal. 

" More than any other individual, and as much as 
to one individual was possible, has he contributed to 
found tli'^ our wide spreading Empire, and to give to 
the Western World its independence and freedom* 

" Having effected the great object for which he vas 
placed at the head of our armies, we have seen him 
converting the sword into the plough-share, and vo- 
luntarily sinking the Soldier into the Ciiizen. 



2,7^ WASHINGTON. 

*' When the debility of our Federal sys'a^m had 
become manifest, and the bonds, which connected 
the parts of this vast continent, were dissolving;, we 
have seen him the Chief of those Patriots who form- 
ed for us a Constitution, which, by preserving the 
Union, will, I trust, substantiate and perpetuate those 
blessings, which our Revolution had promised to be- 
stow. 

" In obedience to the general voice of his Coiintry, 
calling on him to preside over a Great People, weJiave 
seen him once more quit the retirement he loved, and 
in a season more tempestuous than war itself, with 
calm and wise determination, pursue the true inter- 
ests of the Nation, and contribute, more than any o- 
ther could contribute, to the establishment of that sys- 
tem of policy, which will, I trust, yet preserve our 
peace, our honour, and our independence. 

" Having been twice unanimously chosen the Chief 
Magistrate of a Free People, we see him, at a time 
when his re-election with universal suffrage cauld not 
be doubted, affording to the world a I'are instance of 
moderation, by withdrawing from bis. high station to 
the peaceful walks of private life. 

" However the public confidence may change, and 
the public affections fluctuate with respect to others, 
yet, with respect to-himv they have in war and iiv 
peace, in public and in private life, been as steady as 
his own firm mind, and as constant as bis own exalt- 
ed vhtues. 

*' Let us then, Mi*. Speaker, pay the last tribute 
of aOection and respect to our departed Friend — Let 
tlie (irand Coimcil of the Nation display those senti- 
ments which the Nation feels. — For this purpose I 
hold in my haml some Resolutions, which I take the 
liberty of offering to the House." 

Mr. Marshall having handed his Resolutions to the 
Clerk, they were read, and unanimously agreed to as 
:»*|Iows, viz. 

Resolved, That this House will wait on the Presi- 
dent of the United States, in condolence of this mourn- ^ 
ful event. Re- 



WASHINGTON. 373 

I^esolved, That the Speaker's chair be shrouded 
with blacky and that the Members and Officers ot the 
House wear black during the Session. 

Resolved, That a Committee, in conjunction with 
one from the Senate, be appointed to consider on the 
most suitable manner of payini^ honour to the memo- 
ry of the Man, first in war, first in peace, and first 
in the hearts of his Countrymen. 

Monday, Dec. 23. 

Mr. Mars- all made a report from the joint Com- 
mittee appointed to consider a suitable mode of com- 
memorating the death of General Washington. 

He reported the following Resolutions : 

Resolved by the Senate and House of Representa- 
tives of the United States of America, in Congress 
Assembled, That a marble monument l)e erected by 
the United States at the Capitol of the City of Wash- 
ington, and that the family of General Washington, 
be requested to permit his body to be deposited under 
it ; and that the monument be so designed as to com- 
memorate the great events ot his mihtary and politi- 
cal life. 

And be it further resolved, That there be a funeral 
procession from Congress Hall, to the German Lu- 
therrm Church, in memory of Gen. George Wash- 
ington, on Tliursday the 26th Inst, and that an ora- 
tion be prepared at the request of Congress, to be de- 
livered before both Houses that. day; and that the 
President of tlie Senate, and Speaker of the House 
of Representatives, be desired to request one of the 
Members of Congress to deliver the same. 

And be it further resolved. That itbe recommend- 
ed to the people , of the United States, to wear crape 
on their left arm as mourning, for thirty days. 

And be it further resohied, That the President of 
the United States be requested to direct a copv of 
these Resolutions to be transmitted to Mrs. Washing- 
tan, assuring her of the profouiul respect Congress 
•will ever bear to her person and character, of "their 
condolence on the lute affecting dispensation of Pro^ 



374 WASHINGTON. 

videiice, and intreating her assent to the interment of 
the remains of General Washington in the manner 
expressed in the first Resolution. 

And be it further resolved, that the President of the 
United States be requested to issue his proclamation, 
notifying to the People tliroughout the United States 
the recommendation contained in the tl»ird Resolution. 

These Resolutions passed both Houses unanimously. 

Same day, the Senate sent the following letter of 
condolence to the President of the United States, by 
a Committee of its Members : — 

To the President of the United States. 

THE Senate of the United States respectfully take 
leave. Sir, to express to you the deep regret for the 
loss their country sustains in the death of General 
George Washington. 

This event, so distressing to all our fellow-citizens, 
must be peculiarly lieavy to you, who have long been 
associated with him in deeds of Patriotism. Permit 
us, Sir, to mingle our tears with yours — on this occa- 
sion it is manly to weep.^ To lose such a Man, at 
such a crisis, is no common calamity to the world— 
our Country mourns her Father. The Almighty Dis- 
poser of human events has taken from us our greatest 
Benefactor and Ornament — It becomes us to submit 
with reverence to Him who ^'^maketh darkness his pa- 
vilion." 

With patiotic pride, we review the life of our Wash- 
ington, and compare him with those of other coun- 
tries, who have been pre-eminent in fame. Ancient 
and modern names are diminished before him. Great- 
ness and Guilt have too often been allied ; but his 
fame is whiter than it is brilliant. The destroyers of 
nations stood abashed at the majesty of his virtue.— 
It reproved the intemperance of their ambition, and 
darkenened the splendour of victory.. The scene is 
closed, and we are no. longer anxious lest misfortune 
should sully his glory ; he has travelled on to the end 
©£ his journey, and carried with him an increasing 

weight 






WASHINGTON. 375 

weight of honour ; he has deposited it safely, where 
Misfortune cannot tarnish it — where Malice cannot 
blast it. Favoured of Heaven, he departed without 
exhibiting the weakness of humanity ; magnanimous 
in death, the darkness of the grave could not obscure 
his brightness. 

Such was the Man whom we deplore. Thanks ta 
God, his glory is consummated— Washington yet 
lives on earth ia his spotless example — his spirit is in 
Heaven I 

Let his countrymen consecrate the memory of the 
heroic General -the patriotic Statesman — and the vir- 
tuous Sage ; let them teach their children never to 
forget, that the fruits of his labours and his example 
are their inheritance. 

The President's Answer. 

Gentlemen of the Senate, 

I RECEIVE, with the most respectful and affectionate 
sentiments, in this impressive Address, the obliging 
expressions of your regret for the loss our Country- 
has sustained, in the death of her most esteemed, Jbe- 
loved, and admired Citizen. 

In the multitude of my thoughts and recollections 
on this melancholy event, you will permit me to say, 
that I have seen him in the days of adversity, in some 
of the scenes of his deepest distress, and most trying 
perplexities; I have ako attended him in his hig, est 
elevation, and most prosperous felicity, with uniform 
admiration of his wisdom, moderation, and constancy* 

Among A\ our original associates in that memora- 
ble League of the Continent in 1774, which first ex- 
pressed the Sovereign Will of a Free Nation in Ame- 
rica, he was the only one remaining in the General 
Government. Altho', with a constitution more enfee- 
bled than his, at an age when he thought it necessary 
to prepare for retirement, I feel myself alone — be- 
reaved of my last brother ; yet 1 derive a strong con- 
solation from the unanimous disposition which ap- 
pears in all ages and classes, to mingle their sorrows, 
with mine on this common calamity to the world. 



^76 WASHINGTON. 

The life of our Washington cannot suffer by a 
comparison with those of other countries, nho have 
been most celebrated and exalted by Fame. The at* 
tributes and decorations of Royalty could only have 
served to eclipse the majesty of those virtues which 
made him, from being a modest Citizen^ a more.re- 
splendant luminary. Misfortune, had he lived, could 
hereafter have sullied his glory only with those super- 
ficial minds, who, believing " that characters- and ac- 
tions are marked by success alone," rarely deserve to 
enjoy it. Malice could never blast his honour, and^w- 
vy made him a singular exception to her universal 
rule — For himself, he had lived enough to Life and to 
Glory— For his fellow citizens, if their prayers could 
have been answered, he would have been immortal— 
For me, his departure is at a most unfortunate mo- 
ment. Trusting, however, in the wise and righteous 
dominion of Providence over the passions of men, and 
the results of their covmcils and actions, as well as o- 
ver their lives, nothing remains for me but humble 
resiarnation. 

His example is now complete, and it will teach wis- 
dom and virtue to magistrates, citizens, and men, not 
only in the present age, but in future generations, as 
long as. our history shall be read — If a Trajan found a 
Pliny, a Marcus Aureliu;^ can never want biographers, 
eulogists, or historians* , JOHJV jiDAMS, 

' On Monday the 3th of January, the President sent 
the following letters to Congress : — 

Gentlemen of the Senate*) and . 

Gentlemen of the House oj^ Representatives'^ 

In compliance with the request in one of the Reso- 
lutions of Congress of the 21st of December last, I 
transmitted a copy of those Resolutions, by my Secre- 
tary, Mr. Shaw, to Mrs. "Washington, assuring her of 
the profound respect Congress will ever bear to her 
person and character— of their condolence in the late 
aftiicting dispensation of Providence, and entreating 
her assent to the interment of the remains of General 
Cfccyge Washington in the naam)er expressed in the > 

first 



WASHINGTON. 377 

first Resolution. As the sentiments of that virtuous 
lady, not less beloved by this nation, than she is at 
present greatly afflicted, can never be so well express- 
ed as in her own words, I transmit to Congress her 
original letter. 

It would be an attempt of too much delicacy to make 
any comments upon it — But there can be no doubt, that 
the Nation at large, as well as all the branches of the Go- 
vernment, will be highly gratified by any arrangement 
which may diminish the sacrifice she makes of her indi- 
vidual feelings. JOHjY ADAMS. 
Mrs. Washington'* Answer. 
Sir, Mount Vernon^ 3\se Dec, 1799, 

While I feel, with keenest anguish, the late dispens- 
ations of DivineProvidence, I cannot be insensible to 
the mournful tribute of respect and veneration which 
are paid to the memory of my dear deceased husband ; 
and, as his best services and most anxious wishes 
were always devoted to the welfare and iiappiness of 
his country, to know that they were truly appreciated, 
and gratefully remembered, aifords no inconsiderable 
consolation. 

Taught by the great example which I have so long 
had before me, never to oppose my private wishes to 
the public will, I must consent to the request made 
by Congress, which you have had the goodness to 
transmit to me — and, in doing this, I need not, I can- 
not say, what a sacrifice of individual feeling I make 
to a sense of public duty. 

With grateful acknowledgements, and unfeigned 
thanks, for the personal respect and evidences of con- 
dolence expressed by Congress and Yourself, I re- 
main very respectfully, 

MARTHA WASHIjVGIOJV. 



SIR WILLIAM WALLACE'S BOX. 

Philadelphia, Ath Jcnu 1792 
On Friday last was presented to the President of 
the I nited States, George Washington, a Box ele- 
gantly mounted with silver, and made of the celebrai- 

ed 



S7^ WASHINGTON. 

ed oak tree that sheltered the patriotic Sir William 
Wallace of Scotland, after the unfortunate battle of 
Falkirk about the year 1300, This very curious and 
characteristical present is from the Earl of Buchan, 
by the hand of Mr. Archibald Robertson, a Scotch gen- 
tleman, and a portrait painter, who arrived in Amer- 
ica some months ago. The Box was presented to 
Lord Buchan by the Goldsmiths Company of Edin- 
burgh ; from whom his Lordship requested, and ob- 
tained leave, to make it over to the Man wijom he 
deemed more deserving of it than, himself, and 
George Washingtotiivas the man. 

We further learn, that Lord Buchan, has request- 
ed of the President, that, on the event of his decease, 
he will consign the Box to that Man, in tliis Country^ 
who shall appear, in his judgment, to merit it best, 
upon the same considerations that induced him to send 
it to America. 

Upon the Box, which is cunously wrought, is a sil- 
ver plate with the following inscription : — " Presented 
by the Goldsmiths of Edinburgh to David Stewart Er- 
skine^ Earl of JB:ichany iviih the Freedom of their Cor- 
poration^ by their Deacon — A* D, 1792." 

Copy of the Letter from Lord Buchan to General 

Washington, accompanying the Box. 
« Sir, Dryburgh Abbey, Ju?ie 28, 1791. 

" I had the honour to receive your Excellency's 
letter relating to the advertisement of Dr. Anderson's 
periodical publication in the Gazette of the United 
States ; which attention to my recommendation I feel 
very sensibly, and return you my grateful acknow- 
ledgments. 

<* In the 21st No. of that literary Miscellany, I in- 
serted a monitory paper respecting America, which I 
fiatter myself, may, if attended to on the other side 
of the Atlantic, be productive of good consequences. 

"To use your own emphatic words, " May. that 
Almighty Being who rules over the Universe — who 
presides in the Councils of Nations— and whose pro- 

viden- 



WASmNGTON. 379 

videntral aid can supply every human defect, conse* 
crate to the Liberties and Happiness of the American 
people, a government instituted by themselves lor pub- 
lic and private security, upon the basis of Law and 
equal administration of Justice, preserving to every 
individual as much civil and political freedom as is con- 
sistent with the safety of the Nation."-— And may he 
be pleased to continue your life and stren^^th as long 
as you can be in any way useful to your Country I 

" I have entrusted this sheet inclosed in a Box, 
made of the Oak that sheltered our Great Sir Wil- 
liam Wallace, after the battle of Falkirk, to Mr. Ro-- 
bertson, of Aberdeen, a Painter, with the hope of 
his having the honour of delivering it into your hand ; 
recommending him as an able Artist, seeking for for- 
tune and fame in the New World. This box was 
presented to me by the Goldsmiths' Company at Edin- 
burgh, to whom, feeling my own un worthiness, to re- 
ceive this magnificently significant present, 1 request- 
ed and obtained leave to make it over to the man in. 
the world to whom I thought it most justly due. In=. 
to yovr hands I commit it, recjuesting of you to pass 
it, on the event of your decease, to the Man in your 
own country who shall appear to your judgment to^ 
merit it best, upon the same considerations that have 
induced me to send it to your Excellency. 
" I am. Sir, with the highest esteem, 
Your Excellency's most obedient 

And obhged humble servant, BUCIL4JV, 

a p. S. — I beg your Excellency will have the good- 
ness to send me your Portrait, that I may place it a- 
mong those I most honour, and I would wish it from the 
pencil of Mr. Robertson.. 1 beg leave to recommend 
him to your countenance, as he has been mentioned 
to me favourably by my worthy friend. Professor 
Oglvie, of King's College, Aberdeen." 

General Washington's Answkr. 
My Lord, riiiladdjihia, l&tA/aijy 1792. 

« I should have had the honour of acknowledging 
sooner the receipt of your letter of the 28Lh of June 

last 



38o WASHINGTON. 

last, had I not concluded to defer doing it till I could 
announce to you the transmission of my portraitj 
which has just been finished by Mr. Robertson (of 
New York) who has also undertaken to forward it. 
The manner of the execution of it does no discredit, 
I am told, to the artist, of whose skill favourable men- 
tion has been made to me. I was further induced to 
entrust the execution of it to Mr» Robertson, from his 
having informed me that he had drawn others for your 
Lordship, and knew the size which best suited your 
collection. 

" I accept, with sensibility and with satisfaction, 
the significant present of the box which accompanied 
your Lordship's letter. 

" In yielding the tribute due from every lover of 
mankind to the patriotic and heroic virtues of which it 
is commemorative, I estimate, as I ought, the addi- 
tional value which it derives from the hand that sent it, 
and my obligations for the sentiments that induced tlie 
transfer.. 

*' I will, however, ask that you will exempt me from 
the compliance with the request relating to its eventu- 
al destination. 

" In an attempt to execute your wish in this parti- 
€ular,I should feel embarrassment from a just compa- 
rison of relative pretentions, and fear to risk injustice 
by so marked a preference. 

" With sentiments of the truest estem and 
consideration, I remain your Lordship's 
most obedient servant. 
Earl of Buchan. G. WASHIJVGTOJ^^ 

'Extract Jrom Gen. Washiyigton^'s Will. 

Item — To the Earl of Buchan I re-commit " the 
•"ox made of the Oak that sheltered the brave Sir 
William Wallace after the battle of Falkirk,"presented 
to me by hisLordship in terms too flattering for me to 
repeat, with a request " to pass it on the eventof my 
decease, to the man in my country who appeared to 
merit it best, upon the same conditions that have in- 
duced 



WASHINGTON. 381 

duced him to send it to me." — Whether easy or not, 
to select the Man who might comport with his Lord- 
ship's opinion in this respect, is not for me to say ; but 
conceiving that no disposition of this vaUiable curiosi- 
ty can be more eligible than the re-committment of it 
to his own cabmet, agreeably to the original design of 
the Goldsmiths'Company of Edinburgh, whopresent- 
-ed it to him, and, at his request, consented that it 
should be tranferred to me — 1 do give and bequeath 
the same to his Lordship ; and in case of his decease, 
to his heir, with my grateful thanks for the distin- 
guished honour of presenting it to me, and more es- 
pecially for the favourable sentiments with which he 
accompanied it. 

CHARACTER OF GENERAL WASHINGTON. 

(Delivered by Mr. Fox in the Britifh Houfe of Commons 

in the year 1794.) 

" Illustrious Man I — deriving honour less from the 
splendour of his situation, than from the dignity of his 
mind — before whom all borrowed Greatness sinks into 
insigni;icance ! — I cannot, indeed, help adm.iring the 
wisdom and the fortune of this Great Man — Not by 
the expression Fortune, I mean to derogate from his 
merit ; but, notwithstanding his extraordinary talents, 
and exalted integrity, it must be considered as singu- 
larly fortunate, that he should have experienced a lot 
which so seldom falls to the portion of humanity, and 
have passed thro' such a variety of scenes without 
stain and without reproach! — It must, indeed, cret'ite 
astonishment, that, placed in circumstances so critical, 
and filling, for a series of time, a station so conspicu- 
ous, his character should never once have been called 
in que^.tion — that he should in no one instance be ac- 
cused either of peevish insolence, or of mean submis- 
sion, in his transactions with foreign nations— -It has 
been reserved for him to run the race of gloiy, with- 
out experiencing the smallest interruption to the bril- 
liancy of his career! — The breath of Censure has not 
dared to impeach the purity of his conduct, nor tlie 

eye 



382 WASHINGTON. 

eye of En>y to raise its malignant glance to the ele- 
vation of his virtue — Such has been the transcendant 
mei'it, and the unparalelled fate, of this illustrious 
Man!" 

CHARACTER OF GENERAL WASHINGTON. 
(By a Scotch Traveller.) 

In no one thing has the world been so much de- 
ceived, as in the article of what is commonly called 
Great Men. — Most of them, upon a nearer and closer 
inspection, have been found to be either great hypo- 
crites or great robbers ! — Not so the Man whose cha- 
racter is now attempted to be delineated — Whether in 
public or in private, he was still the same ; and in 
that humble, but useful and honourable employment, 
a Farmer, he pointed the way to Fortune, as, in his pub- 
lic capacities, he had pointed the way to Fame ; eminent^ 
ly proving, in his own person, the difference between a 
system of method and economy, and a course of idle- 
ness and dissipation. 

By his regular and economical conduct, Mr. Wash- 
ington became one of the mo?t extensive and opulent 
Farmers on the continent. He had about 10,000 acres 
of land attached to his seat of Mount Vernon, where 
he combined theory with practice, and, by successive 
improvements, rendered his grounds highly produc- 
tive. Including his household servants, and those who 
worked upon the farm, he daily main rained about one 
thousand persons, all of whom m.oved and acted ac- 
cording to the rules of a strict, but beneficent system. 
Like a well-regulated clock, the whole machine mov- 
ed in perfect time and order — The effects were, that 
he was completely independent, and died possessed 
of a great property. 

It does not appear that Mr. Washington's education 
was either classical or extensive — a knowledge of the 
EngUsh language, with a portron of geography and 
the mathematics, seem to have been the whole of his 
juvenile improvements. Altho' his grammatical in- 
structions could not be very accurate, he, notwithstand- 
ing, attained) by dint of study and observation, a pro- 



WASHIKGTON. 2>^3 

ficiency in the writing of English, smooth, uniform, 
and even dignified — he wrote in a style that has ex- 
torted the approbation of the most fastidious critics. 
lie is an eminent proof, that a man may become an 
able General without having I'eadCxsar in the origin- 
al, and an able politician witliout having studied either 
the Greek or Roman authors. 

With a tall, majestic person, and a manly counte- 
nance, he had a strong-, but well-governed mind — His 
perceptions were not quick, but, when once he did 
take a position, it was generaiiy well chosen, Emd firm- 
ly adhered to — Neither wit nor vivacity brightened 
his features ; it was a Hice of care, of thought, and 
of cautix^n ; all was calmness and deliberation — Wash- 
ington's great forte was prudence, or discretion ; it 
covered him like a shield in the hour of danger, and 
it was his sure guide in the day of prosperity ; by this 
single talent, he acquired all his w-calth, and obtained 
all his celebrity. — Whilst he fulSIied all the relative 
duties, he was obedient to every temperate rule, and 
every moral principle ; and knowing its vast import- 
ance both to individual and national happiness, he paid 
a proper respect to the observances of Religion. 

%* As it v/oiild fill a volume to infert all the demonftrations 
of refpect paid to this illuftrious charadier in every town from 
New Hampfhire to Georgia, by orations, fermons,'proceirions, 
&,c, we fhall conclude with the following article — 

Philadelphia, Dec. 24, 1799. 
The Theatre, lail evening, joined in the public teftimonv of 
regret for the Icfs of the Hero of America. The Houfe (which 
was extremely full) diiplayed a fcene calculated to imprefs the 
mind with the utmoft folemnity of forrow. The pillars fup- 
porting the boxes were encircled with black crape, the chan- 
daliers were decorated with the iiifignia of woe, and the audi>. 
ence, particularly the female part of it, appeared in mourning. 
At 7 o clock, the band ilruck up Wafliington's Marcli ; after 
which a folemn dirge was performed, Vv'hen the curtain llowly 
rifing, difcovered a Tomb in the center of the ftage in the 
Grecian llile of architecture, fupported by truffcs. In the cen- 
ter of it was a portrait of the General, encircled by a wreath 
of oaken leave; ; imder the portrait, a fword, .ihicld, and hel- 
Tiiet, and the colours of tlae United States. The top was in 

th<; 



3^4 



WASHINGTON. 



the form of a pyramid, in the front of which appeared the 
American Eagle, holding in her beak a fcroll, on which was 
infcribed J Xatioii's Tears ! — The fides of the flage were de- 
corated with black banners containing the names of the dif- 
ferent States flf the Union, in golden Letters, and over which 
mourning traphies were fufpended — A Monody was recited 
by M. Wignell, accompanied by folemn Airs ; and the tragedy , 
•f the RoMxVx Father concluded thebufinefs of the evening. 

AIR IN THE MONODV. 
Slowly ftrike the folemn bell, 
Nature found thy deepeil knell- 
Power of Mufic, touch the heart. 
Nature there will do her part. 
God of Melancholy, come, 
Penfive o'er the Hero's tomb ; 
In faddeft ftrains his lofs deplore. 
With piercing cries rend ev'ry fliore. 
For Washington is now no morel 

Glory, bring thy fairefl wreath, 
Place it on thy Hero's urn : 
Mercy, in foft accents breathe, 
•« He never made this bofom mourn 1" 
Every Virtue here attend, 
Bending o'er his facred earth ; 
Grautude, thy influence lend. 
Make us feel his mighty worth ! 







^,v'igjs?rrEf =:*vi,j ; -- 



<M 



^9 



